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I 


The  Brighton  Road 

OLD  TIMES  QAND  V^EW  ON  QA  CLASSIC 
HIGHWA  Y 


CHARLES    G.     HARPER 

AUTHOR    OF    "eXGLISH    PEN    ARTISTS    OF    TO-DAY " 


WITH  NINETY   ILLUSTRATIONS  BY   THE  AUTHOR 
And  from  Old-ti/ne  Pictures  and  Engravings 


ILontion 
CHAT  TO    &    WIND  US,    PICCADILLY 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2008  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arGliive.org/details/brightonroadoldtOOIiarp 


PREFACE. 

7^  0  you  remember  that  old  a7id  curiously  shrewd 
2)assage  in  one  of  the  Quarterly  Reviews — I  think 
it  ivas  the  ''  Edinhurgh'' — "  There  are  tivo  questions 
to  he  asked  respecting  every  neiv  puhlication  :  Is  it 
ivorth  buying  f  Is  it  uwth  borroiving  ?  ^'  Perhaps 
you  do  not  call  it  to  mind.  It  occurs  to  me,  however, 
as  I  turite  the  last  lines  of  this  book,  and  commands 
attention. 

To  him  luho  creates,  an  impartial  and  impersonal 
view  of  that  creation  he  ivould  fain  judge  impartially 
is  impossible,  so  that  the  only  criterion  of  ivoi^th  to 
be  gained  is  the  reception  accorded  by  Press  and 
Public.  That  lies  yet  in  the  future,  but  if  you  tvho 
read  these  pages  take  an  equal  pleasure  ivith  the 
ivriter  in  ivriting  them,  then  those  questions  quoted 
above  are  likely  to  be  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

The  subject  seems,  on  the  face  of  it,  to  claim  an 
interest  both   in   its   aspects   of  yesterday   and   of 


8~-7(317 


iv  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

to-day.  The  days  of  tlie  Regency  are  done:  the 
Corinthianism  of  that  time  has  utterly  vanished. 
Tom  and  Jerry  ive  know  because  they  are  enshrined 
in  the  2^^9^s  of  Pierce  Egan^s  ivritings,  hut  their 
ways  are  not  the  tvays  of  this  more  subdued  genera- 
tion. What  was  brilliant  in  that  period  shines 
now  with  the  added  lustre  of  romance;  what  was 
sordid  has  mostly  escaped  record.  An  historic 
glamour  pertains  to  their  days,  and,  to  the  road  that 
ivas  then  fashionable  and  travelled  above  all  others. 
There  is,  too,  a  modern  and  more  living  interest 
in  this  road,  noiv  that  the  jycistimes  of  pedestrianism 
and  cycling  have  peopled  the  ivays  anew:  now 
that  coaching,  too,  is  revived  on  this,  as  on  other 
highivays. 

It  is  not  for  the  sake  of  its  destination  alone,  or, 
indeed,  to  any  great  extent,  that  this  road  may  claim 
attention:  it  has  interest  on  its  course  quite  apart 
from  that  ivhich  lies  at  either  end,  and  I  would  not 
have  you  think  that,  if  op>'portunity  offers,  I  would 
not  turn  aside  from  it  into  the  bye-icays  and  lanes 
of  Surrey  and  Sussex.  Pictures  and  interesting 
notes  of  the  quiet  corners  a7id  villages  lying  off  the 
road,  but  within  hail  of  it,  you  shall  fnd  who  seek 
in  these  ^^a^es ;  notes,  too,  of  the  lingering  supersti- 
tions and  quaint  customs  still  left  to  the  peasantry 
of  the  Weald  and  the  South  Downs. 

As  for  literary  and  artistic  gossip  up^on  writers 


PREFACE.  V 

and  artists  loho  have  lived,  or  travelled,  or  sketched, 
or  written  upon  this  road,  that  forms  a  very  large 
portion  of  this  hook.  Occasion,  too,  has  offered  of 
conscientiously  cleansing  the  mud-spattered  cha7xtcter 
of  a  very  Great  Personage  indeed,  ivhoin  every,  or 
almost  every,  ivriter  upon  history  {ice  will  not  say 
Historian)  has  co7itrived  to  vilify;  p>ossihly,  like 
Goldsmith's  mad  dog,  "  to  gain  some  private  ends." 

However  that  may  he,  it  cannot  he  gainsaid  that 
the  pendidum  of  History  has  heen  sivung  too 
violently  tvhen  George  IV.  has  heen  under  discus- 
sion. It  is  time  [and  we  are  upo7i  the  threshold  of 
that  period  ivhen  that  Kings  day  shall  belong  solely 
to  history)  that  loe  should  have  a  normal  notation. 
Thackeray  is  probably  the  greatest  sinner  ccmong 
those  ivho  have  recklessly  vilipended  the  Fourth 
George.  He  set  out  upo7i  a  crusade  against  that 
august  if  {excepting  the  last  of  that  name)  un- 
picturesque  quartette,  and  the  residt,  the  "  Four 
Georges,^^  shall  afford  you  both  interest  and  excellent 
literature;  hut  neither  those  Lectures  nor  that  hook 
are  History:  they  are,  indeed,  merely  the  record  of 
a  bias. 

To  speak  thus  of  Thackeray  is,  I  know,  to  do  the 
accursed  thing,  and,  I  doubt  not,  the  hero-ivor- 
shippers  ivill  fall,  shrieking,  up>on  me;  but  I  ivill 
maintain  that  that  great  ivriter  was  indeed  some- 
thing of  the  moral  snob.     There  !  I  have  said  it. 


vi  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

Coaching  has  been  very  fully  treated  in  these 
pages,  and  in  them  will  he  found  many  reproduc- 
tions of  old  coaching  prints  relating  to  this  road. 
One  only  do  I  knoiv  of  that  makes  no  appearance 
here. 

To  the  courtesy  of  Mr.  Steivart  Freeman,  Mr. 
Bishop,  and  Mr.  J.  B.  Muir  I  owe  the  inclusion 
of  several  of  these  interesting  coaching  pictures,  and 
to  Mrs.  May  all  and  Mr.  Macdonald  I  am  indebted 
for  the  portraits  of  the  late  Mr.  May  all  and  the 
late  James  Selby.  For  p>ermission  to  reprint  such 
p>ortions  of  this  book  as  originally  aj)pcared  in  the 
''Pall  Mall  Budget,''  "  Cycling,"  "Bicijcling  Neivs," 
and  "  Northern  Wheeler  J'  acknoidedgments  are  due 
the  proprietors  of  those  journcds. 

CHAELES  G.  HARPER. 

London,  October  1892. 


CONTENTS. 


FIEST  DAY, 


The  many  routes  to  Brighton — The  White  Horse  CelLars — 
HazHtt  on  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  coaching — 
"  Real  Life  in  London  "  —  Prize-fighting  on  Copthorne 
Common — The  unholy  trinity  of  the  Barrymores — 
Kennington  Gate — Philistine  Brixton  and  the  senti- 
mental Golgotha  of  Brixton  Hill — George  the  Fourth 
as  Prince  of  Wales,  Prince  Regent,  and  King :  some 
notes  towards  a  defence  of  that  reviled  monarch — 
Old-time  travelling  on  the  Brigliton  Road — Streatham 
— Doctor  Johnson  and  the  Thrales — Evils  of  the  good 
old  times,  with  particular  reference  to  the  cut-tln-oats 
of  Thornton  Heath — Croydon — The  Hospital  of  the 
Holy  Trinity — Ruskin — A  seventeenth-century  poet 
on  Croydon — Remarks  upon  tlu;  ro])ustiousness  of  the 
olden  times  —  Purley  and  the  solemn  diversions  of 
John  Home  Tooke — Smitham  Bottom — Chipstead  and 
Sir  Edwanl  Banks — IMerstham — Over  the  tea-cups  : 
an  idyllic  evening  in  a  country  village 


1-48 


viii  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

SECOND  DAY. 

PAGES 

An  ungodly  tramp — "Vagrants  of  Earlswood  Common — 
Remarks  npon  the  iinutterableness  of  Redhill,  and, 
per  contra,  upon  the  elbow-room  and  beauty  of 
Earlswood  Common — Musings  upon  highwaymen  and 
cyclists,  with  valuable  suggestions  for  "  Christmas 
N'umbers" — The  Sussex  peasant — Floods  at  Salford 
Mill — Horley — The  Brighton  parcel  mail — Gatmck 
— A  hajppy  valley  :  Charlwood,  Newdigate,  and  Ifield 
—  Sussex  ironworks  —  The  "Woful  Lament  of  the 
Sussex  Forests,  by  one  Michael  Drayton  —  Ifield 
Hammer  Pond — Crawley  —  Selby's  great  drive  from 
London  to  Brighton  and  back — Cycling  records  on 
the  Brighton  Road      ......         49-90 


THIED  DAY. 

Crawley,  its  gardens  and  old  houses — The  fore-gathering 
of  Victoria  and  Elizabeth  —  Mark  Lemon  —  The 
Corinthianism  of  the  Brighton  Road  —  Prize-fighting 
on  Crawley  Downs  between  the  "  Xonpareil "  and 
the  "Out-and-Outer"— "Gentleman"  Jackson— Tom 
Sayers — The  picturesque  career  of  George  the  Fourth 
versus  the  uninteresting  respectability  of  the  Court  of 
George  the  Third — Thackeray  upon  George  the  Fourth 
in  the  "  Four  Georges  " — The  preachments  of  Thackeray, 
—  The  Shrewsbury-Lonsdale  Driving  Match  —  The 
diverting  sequel  at  Horsham — Sport  on  the  Brighton 
Road — Records  in  pedestrianism,  riding,  and  driving 
— The  jDuzzling  etymology  of  "  Pease  Pottage  "  Gate,  and 
an  invitation  to  the  elucidation  of  "  Warning  lid  " — 
Hand  Cross  ami  tlie  derivation  of  that  name — An  eerie 


CONTENTS.  ix 

PAGES 

tree  —  Staplefield  Common  —  Slaugham,  the  ruins  f)f 
Slaugham  Place,  and  the  lost  family  of  the  Coverts 
— A  drunken,  yet  withal  picturesque,  pedlar — Cuck- 
held 91-134 


FOUETH  DAY. 

Cuckfield  Park — Cuckfield  Place,  the  original  of  "  Eook- 
wood" — The  blood-boltered  romanticism  of  Harrison 
Ainsworth  shown  by  quotation  to  be  more  diverting 
than  dreadful — Rowlandson's  picturesque  rendering  of 
Cuckfield  —  The  doleful  tale  of  Horace  AValpole's 
travelling  in  Sussex  —  Dr.  John  Burton's  despiteful 
entreatment  of  the  county  in  his  writings  —  An 
account  of  the  coaching  era  upon  the  Brighton  Road  : 
the  feuds  of  Batchelor  and  Tubb  :  stage-coaches  begin 
to  supersede  the  stage-waggons :  robbery  on  the 
Brighton  "  Blue  Coach  :  racing  between  coaches,  and 
accidents  :  number  of  coaches  on  the  Brighton  Road  : 
the  "  Quicksilver  "  :  the  "  Criterion  "  and  its  record  : 
decay  and  end  of  the  coaching  era :  opening  of  the 
L.  B.  and  S.  C.  R.  :  "Viator  Junior"  on  the  Brighton 
Road  —  Shergolil's  picturesque  description  of  a  coacli 
journey  from  Brighton  to  London — An  account  of  the 
coaching  revival  so  far  as  it  relates  to  tlie  Brigliton 
Road  —  Sentiment'  versus  steam  —  De  Quincey  on 
coaching  —  Ansty  Cross  —  Turnpikes — Tolls — Burgess 
Hill  and  St.  John's  Common  —  Friar's  Oak  —  List 
of  turnpike  gates  between  London  and  Brighton 
— Clayton  Hill  and  cycling — The  velocipede — Clayton 
Tunnel  Raihvay  accident  —  The  South  Downs  —  Old 
sheep-shearing  songs  —  Old-world  Sussex  —  Sussex 
superstitions — 'Tween  lights — "  Jacob's  Post "         .    135-244 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


FIFTH  DAY. 


Clayton — PyecomlDe  and  its  most  amiable  lion — Pangdean 
— The  delusive  horse-trough  of  Patcham — Epitaph  on 
a  smuggler — Withdean — Preston — The  weighty  devil 
of  Preston  Church — Entrance  to  Brighton — Johnson 
and  Hood  on  Brighton — The  Pavilion — Population  of 
Brighton — Thackeray's  story  of  how  the  Prince  of 
Wales  entertained  the  Duke  of  Norfolk — The  Prince 
and  his  practical  jokes  —  Dr.  Richard  Russell  — 
Shadowy  St.  Brighthelm,  the  patron  saint  of  Bright- 
helmstone,  versus  George  the  Fourth,  its  patron  king 
— A  witty  alderman — The  image  of  the  King — Sir  John 
Lade — The  "  King's  Head  "  and  its  legend — The  escape 
of  Charles  the  Second — St.  Nicholas  Church — Captain 
Tettersell's  monument  —  Travel  -  stained  jiilgrims  — 
Itinerary  of  the  Brighton  Road    ....       245-265 

The  Road  to  Bhighton  .         .         .         .         .         .         .266 

Index 269 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


SEPARATE  PLATES. 


George  IV.     From  the  Paintlnrj  hy  Sir  TJiomas  Lawrence, 

P.R.A.       .         .         .         .         .         .         .  Frontispiece 

The   "Comet,"   1876,   Starting  from  the  AVhite  Horse 

Cellars.     From  Photo       ....     To  face  page  2 

Kexxington  Gate,  1839 — Derby  Day.  From  an  Engrav- 
ing after  J.  PollanJ 10 

Kenningtox  Road   .         .         .         .         .         .         ,         .12 

Stage  AVaggox,  1808.     From  a  Contemporary  Dran-ing     .       16 

]\1e  and  my  Wife  and  Daughter.     Froiyi  a  Caricature  by 

Henry  Bunhury  .         .         .         .         .         .         .18 

The  Beaufort  Coach  Starting  from  the  Bull  and 
Mouth  Office,  Piccadilly  Circus,  1826.  Froin  an 
Aquatint  after  W.  J.  Shayer        .  .  .         .         .20 

Streatham  Common  .         .         .         .         ,         .         .22 

Thrale  Place.     From  a  Photo  taken  in  1863  immediately 

before  demolition         .         .         .         .         .         .         .24 


xii  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

Dining  Hall,  Hospital  op  the  Holy  Trinity    To  face  page  28 

40 


From  a  Draioing  by  A 


'om   a   Painting   by  Alfred 


Chipstead  Church  . 

Mbrstham 

Bye-Road,  Mbrstham 

The  Road  out  of  Redhill 

It  might  have  been 

The  Chequers,  Horley  . 

The   Brighton    Parcel   Mail. 

Chantrey  Carbould 

The  Church,  Horley 

The    "Old   Times,"    1888.     Fr 

S.  Bishoj) 
James  Selby.     From  a  Photo  by  Air.  H.  W.  Macdoiiald. 

Etm 

Crawley,  Looking  J^Torth         ..... 

Crawley,  Looking  South 

Crawley,  1789.     From  an  Aquatint  after  Rowlandson 

Pease  Pottage         ..... 

Hand  Cross     ...... 

Hand  Cross — Something  like  a  Tree  !  . 

Ruins  of  Slaugham  Place 

A  Corner  of  Staplefield  Common 

Cuckfield,  1789.     From  an  Aquatint  after  Rotvlandson 

Talbot  Inn,  Borough,  about  18 15.     From  an  old  Drawing     156 

The  Brighton  Day  Mails  crossing  Hookwood  Common, 

1838.     From  an  Eiigraving  after  J.  Sliayer  .         .168 


44 
46 

5° 
52 
56 

58 
60 

74 

84 
96 
104 
118 
120 
122 
124 
126 
130 
152 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


xui 


The  Brighton  Mail  about  1839.     From  a  Contemporary 

Painting  in  possession  of  Mr.  J.  B.  Muir      To  face  page  1 70 

The  "Age,"  1828,  starting  prom  Castle  Square,  Brighton. 

From  Engraving  after  C.  G.  Henderson        .         .         .182 

The  Road  out  of  Cuckfield 192 

The  Cock,  Sutton      From  an  Aquatint  after  Rowlandson     200 
The  "Age,"  1852,  crossing  Ham  Common,  ,  From  an  En- 
graving after  J.  Shayer       .         .         .         .         •         .204 
Brighton  Coach,  1876,  going  down  Cuckfield  Hill       .     206 
The  "  Comet,"  1890.    From  a  Painting  by  Alfred  S.  Bishop, 


hy  permission  of  Stewart  Freeman,  Esq. 

Ansty  Cross    . 

Friar's  Oak  Inn 

Clayton  Tunnel 

The  South  Downs,  Clayton 

The  Plough,  Pyecombe   . 

Patcham  .... 

The  Pavilion  . 

The  Aquarium 

The  Cliffs,  Brighthelmstone,  1789.     From  an  Aqnatint 
after  Rowlandsori 

St.  Nicholas — The  Old  Parish  Church  of  Brighthelm 
stone 


210 
218 
222 
224 
238 
246 
248 
250 
256 

260 

262 


The  Chain  Pier,  1839.     From  a  Contemporary  Lithograph     264 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  TEXT. 

London  Postman  of  the  Regency 

Stream  at  JSTorbury    ...... 

The  Chapel,  Hospital  of  the  Holy  Trinity  . 

Coulsdon — a  Roadside  Station   .... 

Floods  on  the  Brighton  Road  at  Salford  Mill 

The  Postman  Wades  the  Flood  .... 

The  Floods  at  Horley         ..... 

Charlwood         ....... 

On  the  Road  to  N"ewdigate         .... 

A  Corner  in  Newdigate  Church 

Ifield  Mill  Pond 

A  Quiet  Corner  at  Crawley         .... 

The  late  John  Mayall,  Jun.     From  Photo  taken  in  1866 
lent  hij  Mrs.  Mayall    ..... 

Old  Cottage,  Crawley         ..... 

Regency  Bucks  ...... 

Past  and  Present — Two  Generations  of  Englishmen 

From  a  Brass  at  Slaugham  .... 

And  thus  we  parted  !  ..... 

Cuckfield  Place  ...... 

Harrison  Ainsworth.     From  the  Fraser  Portrait 

Town  and  Country,  1784  . 


PAO£ 

9 

27 

31 

39 
55 
56 

59 
62 

63 

65 

67 

71 


93 

94 

100 

129 

131 
136 

138 
i6o 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


The  Fasliion,  1828    .... 

Sussex  Iron  Fireback,  Riddens  Farm 

The  Hobby-Horse  and  the  Safety  Bicycle 

The  Velocipede 

Boneshaker  of  186S  . 

The  Idyllic  Shepherd 

The  Downs 

At  Clayton 

Old  Dovecot,  Patcham 

Watchman 

Dr.  Richard  Russell.     From  a  Picture  by  Zoffanij 

Day  Trippers    ....... 

Initials,  Decorative  Devices,  and  Tailpieces 


PAGE 
213 

221 

226 

227 

228 

232 

243 
246 

260 
265 


THE    BRIGHTON    ROAD. 


FIRST  DAY. 


The  winter  was  over  and  past,  and  yet,  by  reason  of 
its  long-continned  and  almost  unprecedented  severity, 
there  was  in  us  little  of  that  buoyancy  which  spring 
generally  gives.  London  fogs,  too,  had  done  their 
worst,  and,  together  with  a  subtle  and  insidious 
scourge  which  had  been  prevalent  throughout  the 
land  during  the  winter  months,  had  taken  away 
much  of  the  delight  of  living.  Therefore  it  was 
with  eagerness  that  this  tramp  to  Brighton,  once 
suggested,  was  undertaken  in  the  sweet  spring-time. 
Many  and  various  are  the  ways  in  which  they 
travel  who  go  down  to  the  sea  at  London- super- 
Mare.  Imprimis,  there  be  they  who  journey  by 
rail,  a  goodly  crowd ;  cyclists  of  all  kinds  (and 
their  kinds  arc  many)  fall  into  the  highway  below 

A 


2  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

Croydon — the  wheelman's  "  unspeakable  Croydon  ;  " 
coaches,  in  these  days  of  revival,  take  the  road  gaily  ; 
pedestrians  of  the  amateur  kind  there  are  a  few,  and 
tramps  pure  and  simple  (if  such  an  expression  may 
pass  respecting  these  tribes  of  uncleanly  and  guileful 
wanderers)  infest  this  classic  way.  And  we  walked, 
too,  in  an  age  of  wheels,  and  were  without  doubt 
objects  of  pity  to  the  cyclists  who  "scorched"  the 
fifty-two  miles  of  road  between  London  and  the  sea 
in  a  fraction  over  three  hours  and  three-quarters. 
Well,  the  advantage  lay  entirely  in  their  minds,  for 
we  were  content  to  pass,  if  needs  or  inclinations 
were,  the  whole  of  our  few  days'  holiday  upon  the 
road,  so  only  some  fresh  air  might  be  encountered  on 
the  way,  careless  if  Brighton  were  reached  onlj'  in 
time  to  return. 

Now,  there  are  many  roads  by  which  those  who 
will  may  reach  this  smaller  London  of  the  southern 
coast.  The  most  direct  is  that  which  goes  by  way 
of  Streatham,  Croydon,  Eedhill,  Horley,  Crawley, 
Cuckfield,  and  Clayton,  and  this,  the  Eecord  Route, 
the  Classic  Eoad,  is  that  we  took.  Others  of  foremost 
importance  there  are  two,  in  addition  to  those 
variations  of  the  first  route,  which,  avoiding  Croy- 
don, go  through  Sutton  and  Eeigate,  and  lower  down 
at  Hand  Cross  branch  out  by  way  of  Hickstead 
and  Albourne,  rejoining  the  foremost  road  by  the 
Plough  at  Pyecombe.  These  are  (i)  that  by  way  of 
Ewell,  Dorking,  Horsham,  and  Mockbridge  ;  and  (2) 
that  other,  of  greatest  length,  through  Croydon, 
Godstone  Green,  East  Grinstead,  ^laresfield,  Uck- 
field,  and  Lewes,  which  last  is  the  oldest  of  these 


FIRST  DA  Y.  3 

quoted  routes,  and  is  over  fifty-eight  miles  in  length. 
This  is,  without  doubt,  the  most  picturesque  route 
of  any,  contrived  as  it  is  out  of  country  lanes,  aimless 
and  wandering,  that,  existing  before  any  one  wished 
to  get  to  Brighthelmstone,  reached  that  place  almost 
fortuitously  and  with  many  doublings — a  route  little 
travelled  in  these  days.  Even  though  one  goes 
a-pleasuring  along  the  roads,  in  these  hurrying  times 
the  shortest  route  is  certain  of  selection. 

To  the  purist  in  these  matters,  one  should  "  take 
off  "  from  the  White  Horse  Cellars  in  Piccadilly,  even 
though  the  original  cellars  are  gone  the  way  of  all 
old  houses  in  London,  and  though  the  coaches  in 
these  days  of  their  exotic  revival  have,  many  of  them, 
changed  their  venue  to  the  more  convenient  centre 
of  Northumberland  Avenue.  But  to  make  a  detour 
for  the  purpose  of  passing  that  historic  starting-point 
were  surely  sentiment  gone  mad  ;  so  we  held  on  from 
our  start  in  the  Bayswater  Eoad,  through  the  Parks 
to  that  point  whence  the  Brighton  Eoad  is  measured 
— that  is  to  say,  the  Surrey  side  of  Westminster 
Bridge.  But,  not  to  suffer  the  memory  of  "  the 
Cellars  "  to  be  dismissed  so  summarily,  I  have  turned 
to  riazlitt  for  his  description  of  the  starting  of  the 
mail-coaches  from  this  historic  spot  in  Piccadilly. 

That  the  old  White  Horse  Cellars  were  situated 
on  the  south  side  of  Piccadilly  is  a  fact  known  to 
but  few  modern  Londoners.  The  majority  think 
upon  the  old  "  Hatchett's,"  pulled  down  in  1884,  as 
the  only  possible  cellars ;  but  they,  and  the  coach- 
office,  were  in  Regency  times  situated  two  doors 
from  what  is  now  the  Bath  Hotel  (itself  memorable 


4  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

as  the  death-place  of  Gustave  Dore),  at  the  corner  of 
Arlington  Street/ 

Well,  Hazlitt  thought  the  morning  scene  in  the 
Piccadilly  of  his  time  a  very  fine  sight  indeed.  "  The 
finest  sight  in  the  metropolis,"  he  says,  "is  the  set- 
ting off  of  the  mail-coaches  from  Piccadilly.  The 
horses  paw  the  ground  and  are  impatient  to  be  gone, 
as  if  conscious  of  the  precious  burden  they  convey. 
There  is  a  peculiar  secrecy  and  dispatch,  significant 
and  full  of  meaning,  in  all  the  proceedings  concern- 
ing them.  Even  the  outside  passengers  have  an 
erect  and  supercilious  air,  as  if  proof  against  the 
accidents  of  the  journey  ;  in  fact,  it  seems  indifferent 
whether  they  are  to  encounter  the  summer's  heat  or 
the  winter's  cold,  since  they  are  borne  through  the  air 
on  a  winged  chariot." 

But  I  like  better  a  passage  referring  to  Piccadilly 
which  I  found  the  other  day  in  a  Avork  published 
in  Corinthian  days,  and  steeped  to  the  full  in 
the  spirit  of  that  remarkable  time.  The  book  I 
refer  to  is  a  pseudonymous  work  entitled  "  Real 
Life  in  London,"  purporting  to  be  by  "Bob  Tally- 
ho,"  and  recounting  the  adventures  of  himself 
and  "  Tom  Dashall "  in  town.  It  is  a  work  sug- 
gested by  the  great  success  which  attended  Pierce 
Egan's  "Life  in  London,"  wherein  may  be  read  the 
strange  and  fearful  doings  of  "  Corinthian  Tom " 
and    his    two    companions,   "Jerry  Hawthorn"  and 

^  The  original  Wliite  Horse  Cellars  were  in  existence  in  1720,  and 
were  so  named  by  Williams,  tlie  landlord,  as  a  compliment  to  the 
House  of  Hanover,  tlie  newly  established  Royal  House  of  Great 
Britain. 


FIRST  DAY.  5 

"Bob  Logic,"  the  Oxonian.  Apart  from  its  illustra- 
tions, the  merit  of  "Ileal  Life"  is  fully  equal  to  its 
forerunner,  and,  indeed,  is  likely  to  prove  of  greater 
real  historic  interest,  inasmuch  as  it  deals,  under  a 
very  thin  veil,  with  real  persons  and  personages, 
whose  identity  he  who  cares  to  may  discover  with 
little  trouble. 

In  the  passage  just  mentioned,  Tom  Dashall  and 
his  friend  are  setting  out  to  a  prize-fight  to  be  held 
on  Copthorne  Common,  a  contest  between  Jack 
Randall,  the  Nonpareil,  and  Martin,  a  baker  by 
trade,  and  for  that  reason  endeared  to  "  the  Fancy  " 
by  the  nickname  of  "Master  of  the  Eolls."  Natu- 
rally, on  that  important  occasion,  the  roads  were 
thronged  ;  "  the  lads  of  the  Fancy  were  on  the  qui 
vive,"  and  "  Piccadilly  was  all  in  motion — coaches, 
carts,  gigs,  tilburies,  whiskies,  buggies,  dogcarts, 
sociables,  dennets,  curricles,  and  sulkies  were  passing 
in  rapid  succession,  intermingled  with  tax-carts  and 
waggons  decorated  with  laurel,  conveying  company 
of  the  most  varied  description.  Here  was  to  be  seen 
the  dashing  Corinthian  tickling  up  his  tits,  and  his 
hang-up  set-out  of  hloocl  and  hone,  giving  the  go-by 
to  a  heavy  drag  laden  with  eight  brawny,  bull-faced 
blades,  smoking  their  way  down  behind  a  skeleton 
of  a  horse,  to  whom,  in  all  probability,  a  good  feed 
of  corn  would  have  been  a  luxury ;  pattering  among 
themselves,  occasionally  chaffing  the  more  elevated 
drivers  by  whom  they  were  surrounded,  and  pushing 
forward  their  nags  with  all  the  ardour  of  a  British 
merchant  intent  upon  disposing  of  a  valuable  cargo 
of  foreign  goods  on  'Change.      There  was  a  waggon 


6  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

full  of  all  sorts  upou  the  lark,  succeeded  by  a 
donhey-cart  with  four  iusides ;  but  yeddij,  not 
liking  his  burthen,  stopped  short  in  the  way  of  a 
Dandy,  whose  horse's  head,  coming  plump  up  to  the 
back  of  the  crazy  vehicle  at  the  moment  of  its 
stoppage,  threw  the  rider  into  the  arms  of  a  dust- 
man, who.  huoforino-  his  customer  with  the  determined 
grasp  of  a  bear,  swore,  d — u  his  eyes,  he  had  saved 
his  life,  and  he  expected  he  would  stand  something 
handsome  for  the  Gemmen  all  round,  for  if  he  had 
not  pitched  into  their  cart,  he  would  certainly  have 
broke  his  neck ;  which  being  complied  with,  though 
reluctantly,  he  regained  his  saddle,  and  proceeded 
a  little  more  cautiouslv  alono^  the  remainder  of  the 
road,  while  groups  of  pedestrians  of  all  ranks  and 
appearances  lined  each  side." 

On  their  way  they  pass  Hyde  Park  Corner,  where 
they  encounter  one  of  a  notorious  trio  of  brothers, 
friends  of  the  Prince  Eegent  and  companions  of  his 
in  every  sort  of  excess — the  Barrymores,  to  wit, 
named  severally  Hellgate,  Newgate,  and  Cripplegate, 
the  last  of  this  unholy  trinity  so  called  because  of  his 
chronic  limping  :  the  two  others'  titles,  taken  with 
the  characters  of  their  bearers,  are  self-explanatoiy. 

Dashall  points  his  Lordship  out  to  his  com- 
panion, who  is  new  to  London  life,  and  requires 
such  explanations. 

"The  driver  of  that  tilbury.'"  says  he,  '"is  the 
celebrated  Lord  Cripplegate,^  with  his  usual  equi- 
page ;  his  blue  cloak  with  a  scarlet  lining  hanging 
loosely  over  the  vehicle  gives  an  air  of  importance 

^  Hem y  Barry,  Earl  of  Barrymore,  in  the  peerage  of  Ireland. 


FIRST  DA  Y.  7 

to  his  appearance,  and  he  is  always  attended  by  that 
boy,  who  has  been  denominated  his  Cupid  :  he  is  a 
nobleman   by  birth,  a  gentleman  by   courtesy  (oh, 
witty  Dashall !),  and  a  gamester  by  profession.      He 
exhausted  a  large  estate  npon  odd  and  even,  seven. 'i 
the  main,  &c.,  till,  having  lost   sight   of  the  main 
chance,  he  found  it  necessary  to  curtail  his  establish- 
ment  and    enliven   his    prospects  by  exchanging  a 
first  floor  for  a  second,  without  an   opportunity  of 
ascertaining  whether  or  not  these   alterations  were 
best   suited   to   his  high  notions  or  exalted  taste ; 
from  which,  in  a  short  time,  he  was  induced,  either 
by  inclination  or  necessity,  to  take  a  small  lodging 
in   an  obscure   street,  and  to   sport   a  gig  and  one 
horse,   instead   of   a    curricle    and    pair,   though    in 
former  times  he  used  to  drive  four-in-hand,  and  was 
acknowledged  to  be  an  excellent  whip.      He  still, 
however,  possessed  money  enough  to  collect  together 
a  large  quantity  of  halfpence,  which  in  his  hours  of 
relaxation  he  managed  to  turn  to  good  account  by 
the  following  stratagem: — He  distributed  his  half- 
pence on  the  floor  of  his  little  parlour  in  straight 
lines,  and  ascertained  how  many  it  would  require  to 
cover  it.      Having  thus  prepared  himself,  he  invited 
some  wealthy  spendthrifts  (with  whom  he  still  had 
the  power  of  associating)  to  sup  with  him,  and  he 
welcomed  them  to  his  habitation  Mith  much  cordi- 
ality.    The  glass  circulated  freely,  and  each  recounted 
his  gaming  or  amorous  adventures  till  a  late  hour, 
when,  the  effects  of  the  bottle  becoming  visible,  he 
proposed,  as  a  momentary  suggestion,  to  name  how 
many  halfpence,  laid  side  by  side,  would  carpet  the 


8  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

floor,  and  offered  to  lay  a  large  wager  that  he  would 
guess  the  nearest. 

"  '  Done  !  done  ! '  was  echoed  round  the  room. 
Every  one  made  a  deposit  of  ^loo,  and  every  one 
made  a  guess,  equally  certain  of  success ;  and  his 
Lordship  declaring  he  had  a  large  stock  of  halfpence 
by  him,  though  perhaps  not  enough,  the  experiment 
was  to  be  tried  immediately.     'Twas  an  excellent  hit ! 

"  The  room  was  cleared  ;  to  it  they  went ;  the  half- 
pence were  arranged  rank  and  file  in  military  order, 
when  it  appeared  that  his  Lordship  had  certainly 
guessed  (as  well  he  might)  nearest  to  the  number. 
The  consequence  was  an  immediate  alteration  of  his 
Lordship's  residence  and  appearance :  he  got  one 
step  in  the  world  by  it.  He  gave  up  his  second- 
hand gig  for  one  warranted  new ;  and  a  change  in 
his  vehicle  may  pretty  generally  be  considered  as 
the  barometer  of  his  pocket." 

And  so,  with  these  piquant  biographical  remarks, 
they  betook  them  along  the  road  in  the  early 
morning,  passing  on  their  way  many  curious  itine- 
rants, whose  trades  have  changed  and  decayed,  and 
are  now  become  nothing  but  a  dim  and  misty 
memory ;  such  as,  for  instance,  the  sellers  of  warm 
Salop,  the  forerunners  of  the  early  coffee-stalls  of 
our  own  day. 

The  early  postman,  too,  would  be  starting  his 
rounds :  a  radiant  vision  he,  of  scarlet  coat  with 
bright  blue  facings,  drab  breeches  and  gaiters,  and  a 
wonderful  hat,  low-crowned  and  black,  and  girded 
round  with  a  deep  gold  band,  carrying  in  one  hand 
a  lock  valise,  and  in  the  other  a  brass  bell,  which  he 


FIRST  DA  Y. 


would  ring  to  herald  liis  coming.  Our  postmen  are 
as  nothing  to  this  brilliant  being  in  appearance  ;  to 
compare  the  two  orders 
were  as  the  comparison  of 
the  peacock  with  the  raven. 
I  cannot  here  present  him 
in  his  colours  ;  but  in  this 
sketch  from  a  contempo- 
rary print  you  have  some- 
thing of  his  cut. 

'Twas  half-past  six  o'clock 
as  we  entered  Hyde  Park 
by  the  Marble  Arch,  and 
the  daylight  was  but  little 
advanced.  We  had  each 
of  us  a  knapsack,  carried 
on  the  back,  containing 
necessary  articles  for  a  few 
days'  sojourn,  and  these 
were  our  only  burdens, 
save  that  at  starting  we  were  only  too  conscious 
of  those  knapsacks.  The  entirely  British  sense  of 
shame  in  presenting  any  but  the  most  orthodox  of 
appearances  was,  indeed,  chiefly  responsible  for  our 
early  start,  as  we  had  hoped  at  this  unusual  hour 
to  meet  few  people  ;  but  at  the  outset  we  ran  the 
gauntlet  of  criticism  at  the  hands  of  the  workmen 
partaking  of  an  early  breakfast  at  an  open-air  coffee- 
stall.  There  is  something  particularly  annoying  in 
being  criticised  by  the  British  workman,  inasnuuli 
as  it  is  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  come  down  to 
his  level,  and  to  fire  into  liini  t]\v  only  rcjilios  which 


LONDON  rOSTMAN   OF  THE 
RKGEXCY. 


lo  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

he  would  feel  acutely ;  which,  by  the  way,  explains 
also  the  unanswerable  nature  of  arguments  emanat- 
ing from  'busmen  and  the  like. 

Bis:  Ben  struck  the  hour  of  seven  as  we  left  the 
Parks  behind  and  walked  down  the  grey  length 
of  Great  George  Street  on  to  Westminster  Bridge. 
Here  all  was  mist.  Westminster  towers  and  spires 
loomed  ponderously  overhead,  poised  apparently  on 
nothing  more  substantial  than  eddying  vapours,  and 
the  river  below^  w^as  invisible.  A  ghostly  shape, 
indeed,  spanned  the  void  to  the  eastward,  which  we 
took  to  be  Charing  Cross  Bridge,  and  the  huge  pile 
of  Whitehall  Court  lent  romance  to  the  scene,  with 
its  picturesque  sky-line ;  and  again,  a  something  far 
away  and  to  the  right  hand  glittered  faintly  high  in 
air,  doubtless  the  gilded  cross  of  St.  Paul's  touched 
by  the  mist-swaddled  sun.  Earth,  w^e  thought  then, 
had  little  fairer  to  show^  than  this  same  view  from 
Westminster  Bridge. 

The  Ih'ighton  Road,  measured  from  the  Surrey 
side,  just  here,  takes  its  course  along  the  West- 
minster Bridge  Road,  turning  at  Newington  Cause- 
way to  the  right,  and  then  follows  the  Kennington 
Road  to  its  junction  with  the  Park  Road  and  the 
weary  length  of  Brixton. 

Though  'twas  yet  early,  the  insistant  tinkle,  tinkle 
of  tramway  horses'  bells  filled  the  air,  and  the  shops 
of  the  cheap  tailors  and  bootmakers  and  furnishers, 
with  whicli  the  Bridge  Road  is  filled,  w-ere  already 
opening  ;  so  we  made  haste  to  leave  its  sordid 
neiglibourhood  behind,  and  pursued  the  broad  pave- 
ments of  Kennington  with  all  speed,  stopping  only 


00      c^ 

"     if 


■A      ^ 


y.    i. 


FIRST  DAY.  ,r 

to  note  the  fortuitously  happy  composition  whicli 
the  spires  of  Christ  Church  make  viewed  from  adown 
the  road.  'Tis  another  matter  at  Kennington,  wliosc 
Church  of  St.  JNlark,  standing  where  the  Brixton 
Road  begins,  is  a  fearsome  specimen  of  pagan  archi- 
tecture done  in  plebeian  brick  and  stucco,  the  tower, 
cupola-crowned,  bearing  aloft  funeral  urns  and  sacri- 
ficial tripods  in  plenty,  equalling  in  hidcousness  only 
its  near  neighbour  of  l>rixton. 

Here,  as  you  go  toward  this  pagan  temple,  stood, 
in  times  not  so  far  removed  but  that  some  yet 
living  can  remember  it,  Kennington  Gate,  an  im- 
portant turnpike  at  any  time,  and  one  of  very 
great  traffic  on  Derby  Day,  Avhen,  I  fear,  the  pike- 
man  was  freely  bilked  of  his  due  at  the  hands  of 
sportsmen,  noble  and  ignoble.  There  is  a  view  of 
this  gate  on  such  a  day  drawn  by  James  Pollard,  and 
published  in  1838,  which  gives  a  very  good  idea  of 
the  amount  of  traffic  and,  by  the  way,  the  curious 
costumes  of  the  period.  You  shall  also  find  in  the 
"Comic  Almanack"  for  1837  an  illustration  by 
George  Cruickshank,  of  this  same  place,  one  would 
say,  although  it  is  not  mentioned  by  name,  in 
which  is  an  immense  jostling  crowd  anxious  to 
pass  through,  while  the  pikeman,  having  apparently 
been  "cheeked"  by  the  occupants  of  a  passing 
vehicle,  is  vulgarly  engaged,  I  grieve  to  state,  in 
"taking  a  sight"  at  them.  That  is  to  say,  he  has, 
according  to  the  poet,  "Put  his  thumb  unto  his  nose 
and  spread  his  fingers  out." 

And  here  begins  the  P>rixton  Road. 

The  Brixton  Road    is    given   over   in   great  part 


12  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

to  schools,  and  the  district  is  inhabited  largely  of 
City  men,  Avealthy  tradesfolk,  retired  and  active, 
and  so  is  become,  as  it  were,  a  veritable  Philistine 
stronghold,  where  the  money-market  article  in  the 
morning  papers  seems  the  sweetest  and  most  en- 
thralling literature  ever  writ,  and  where  the  clangour 
of  the  conventicle  bell  ceaseth  not  out  of  the  land,  but 
jars  for  ever  upon  the  exasperated  ear.  Memories  of 
the  Regency  are  impossible  in  the  Brixton  Road ; 
Corinthian  days,  even  though  they  be  chronicled  by 
Pierce  Egan,  are  powerless  of  recall.  Conceive  me, 
if  you  can,  at  the  same  time  the  Barrymores  and  the 
Bon  Marche.     You  cannot !     Let  us  away  ! 

It  came  on  to  rain  when  we  reached  the  church 
on  Brixton  Hill ;  so,  while  sheltering  by  its  dreadful 
Doric,  we  had  the  opportunity  of,  willy-nilly,  studying 
the  tombstone  inscriptions  to  dead  and  gone  Brix- 
ton Philistines,  who  apparently  possessed  all  the 
virtues  of  their  several  classes,  and  certainly,  when 
they  were  gathered  to  their  fathers,  were  buried  with 
tons  of  stone  a-top,  designed  in  horrid  taste,  eloquent 
alike  of  vulgarity  and  long  purses. 

One  bleating  epitaph  in  especial  forced  itself  upon 
our  gaze.  It  was  in  this  wise,  not  to  give  it  here  in 
its  fulness  of  gush  : — 

"Oh,  Miles!  the  modest,  learned,  and  sincere 
AVill  sigh  for  thee,  "whose  ashes  slumber  here ; 
The  youthful  bard  will  pluck  a  floweret  pale 
From  this  sad  turf  whene'er  he  reads  the  tale."   .... 

Right  glad  were  we  when  the  showers  ceased  and 
we  could  leave  this  Golgotha  behind  to  follow  the 
way,  which  now  gained  something  of  rurality,  in  so 


FIRST  DAY.  13 

far  at  least  as  lay  in  the  substitution  of  wide  lawns 
and  detached  villas  for  the  frowsy  gardens  and  fore- 
courts and  continuous  houses  of  the  Brixton  Koad. 

And  now%  as  there  is  little  or  nothing  worthy 
mention  until  we  reach  Streatham,  let  us  beguile  the 
uninteresting  way  with  some  historical  gossip  upon 
this  road  to  lirighton. 

If  these  pages  had  been  devised  solely  for  showing 
a  picture  of  the  road  during  the  Regency  and  the 
reign  that  succeeded  it,  there  would  be  not  the 
slightest  difficulty  in  creating  a  lengthy  and  light- 
some narrative  of  its  many  and  distinguished  tra- 
vellers. Some  of  these  may  in  succeeding  pages 
be  dismissed  w^ith  little  ceremony ;  but  there  is  one 
great  personage  connected  with  the  Brighton  Road, 
w^ithout  wdiom  it  ^vould  never  have  attained  its  once 
great  vogue,  who  will  be  mentioned  frequently  in 
this  book.  The  mention  of  George,  Prince  of  Wales, 
Prince  Regent,  and  fourth  King  of  that  name,  could 
no  more  be  omitted  from  a  gossip  of  its  travellers 
than  could  the  Prince  of  Denmark  go  unrepresented 
in  the  play  of  "  Plamlet."  Indeed,  without  him,  it  is 
fairly  arguable,  having  all  due  regard  to  the  tricks  of 
that  jade,  Fashion,  that  there  w^ould  be  no  Brighton 
Road  to-day,  and  but  a  ghost  of  Brighton  herself.^ 
So  I  have,  bearing  these  things  in  mind,  caused  a 
portrait  of  Prince  Florizel  to  appear  on  the  frontis- 
piece of  this  book,  and  a  brave  appearance  he  makes 
there  too. 

1  Brighton,  familiarly  Doctor  Brighton,  must  n-ally  be  masculine  ; 
but  figure  to  yourseli'  the  egregious  phrase  "  Brighton  himself."  It  is 
impossible  of  use  ;  so  this,  it  would  seem,  must  be  a  female  doctor. 


14  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

Thackeray  would  have,  indeed  has,  told  us  that 
the  curly  hair  waving  so  picturesquely  on  those 
princely  temples  Avas  a  wig,  and  I  will  not  say  he 
was  in  error  ;  but  it  was  an  unkind  thing  to  proclaim, 
especially  after  the  P.R.A.,  the  courtly  Lawrence, 
had  achieved  so  excellent  a  piece  of  flattery  in  paint 
as  this  is  ;  and  when  the  well-paid  poet  had  so  per- 
jured himself  as  to  write  such  lines  as  these,  it  was 
too  bad  to  batter  so  splendid  an  idol  as  that  here 
presented : — 

"  Seek  yon  the  Brave,  the  Generous,  and  the  Free, 
The  Pride,  the  Hope  of  Britons  1 — This  is  He  ! 
From  Albion's  Kings  he  boasts  his  splendid  Fame, 
The  Patriot  King,  shall  grace  his  future  name  ; 
E'en  now  the  cause  of  Europe  he  sustains, 
And  from  the  groaning  World  removes  the  Tyrant's  chains." 

Alas  !  he  has  been  handed  down  as  doing  nothing, 
or  being  none,  of  these  things. 

The  character  of  George  IV.  has  been  the  theme 
of  writers  upon  history  and  sociology,  of  essayists, 
diarists,  and  gossip-mongers  without  number,  and 
most  of  them  have  shown  him  in  very  lurid  colours 
indeed.  But  Horace  Walpole,  perhaps,  after  all,  the 
clearest-headed  of  this  company,  shows  us  in  his 
"Last  Journals"  that  from  his  boyhood  the  Prince  was 
governed  in  the  stupidest  way — in  a  manner,  indeed, 
but  too  well  fitted  to  spoil  a  spirit  so  high  and  so  im- 
petuous, and  impulses  so  generous  as  then  were  his. 

It  seems,  unfortunately,  only  too  clear  that  George 
III.,  himself  of  a  narrow  and  obstinate  mind,  given 
to  pettinesses,  pubHc  and  private,  was  jealous  of  his 
son's  superior  parts,  and  endeavoured  to  hide  them 


FIRST  DAY.  15 

beneath  the  bushel  of  seclusion  and  inadequate  train- 
ing. It  was  impossible  for  such  a  father  to  appre- 
ciate either  the  qualities  or  the  defects  of  such  a  son. 
"The  uncommunicative  selfishness  and  pride  of 
George  III.  confined  him  to  domestic  virtues,"  says 
Walpole,  and  he  adds,  "  Nothing  could  equal  the 
King's  attention  to  seclude  his  son  and  protract  his 
nonage.  It  went  so  absurdly  far  that  he  was  made 
to  wear  a  shirt  with  a  frilled  collar  like  that  of  babies. 
He  one  day  took  hold  of  his  collar  and  said  to  a 
domestic,  '  See  how  I  am  treated  ! '"  ^ 

The  Duke  of  Montagu,  too,  was  charged  with  the 
education  of  the  Prince,  and  "  he  was  utterly  incap- 
able of  giving  him  any  kind  of  instruction.  .  .  .  The 
Prince  was  so  good-natured,  but  so  uninformed,  that 
he  often  said,  '  I  wish  anybody  would  tell  me  what 

1  ought  to  do  ;  nobody  gives  me  any  instruction  for 
my  conduct.'  '  The  absolute  poverty  of  the  instruc- 
tion afforded  him,  the  false  and  narrow  ways  of  the 
royal  household,  and  the  evil  example  and  low  com- 
panionship of  his  uncle,  the  Duke  of  Cumberland, 
did  much  to  spoil  this  Prince. 

To  quote  ^^^alpole  again  :  "  It  made  men  smile  to 
find  that  in  the  palace  of  piety  and  pride  his  Poyal 
Hishness  had  learnt  nothinc:  but  the  dialect  of  foot- 
men  and  grooms.  .  .  .  He  drunk  hard,  swore,  and 
passed  every  night  in"  .  .  .  ;  such  were  the  fruits 
of  his  being  locked  up  in  tlio  palace  of  ])iety." 

1  "The  Last  Journal-  of  Horace  WaliK.le,'^  edited  l.y  Dr.  .lolm  l)..niii, 

2  vols.,  1889. 

'^Hiatus  in  the  Journals,  arranged  l-y  tlie  editor  for  llie  heneJit  of 

the  Youn"  Person  1 


1 6  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

He  proved,  too,  as  might  have  been  foreseen,  an 
intractable  and  undutiful  son ;  he  was  the  faithless 
husband  of  a  flippant  and  vulgar  wife ;  and,  in  the 
circumstances,  least  excusable,  an  indifferent  father 
to  his  only  daughter.  These  things  cannot  be  ex- 
plained away,  even  did  one  wish  to  do  so ;  but  the 
responsibility  for  this  evil  warping  of  what  was  origin- 
ally a  generous  and  kindly  nature  is  fixed  by  incon- 
trovertible facts  upon  those  whose  charge  it  was. 

He  it  was  who  peopled  these  roads  with  a  nume- 
rous and  brilliant  concourse  of  whirling  travellers, 
where  before  had  been  only  some  infrequent  plodder 
amidst  the  depths  of  Sussex  sloughs.  To  his  royal 
presence,  radiant  by  the  Old  Steyne,  hasted  all 
manner  of  people  :  prince  and  prizefighter,  states- 
men, noblemen  ;  beauties,  noble  and  ignoble,  jostled 
one  another  on  these  ways  in  chaises,  stage-coaches, 
mail-coaches,  phaetons,  gigs,  Mhiskies,  and  divers 
other  vehicles  of  yet  more  singular  nomenclature, 
and  severally  cursed  and  shrieked  when,  as  was 
not  an  uncommon  occurrence,  they  were  stuck  fast 
in  ruts  or  overturned  altogether. 

Travelling  even  this  short  distance  of  fifty-two 
miles  was  a  serious  business  when  the  fare  to  or 
from  London  to  Brighton  varied  from  sixteen  to 
twenty-five  shillings  for  every  passenger,  and  when 
the  journey  rarely  took  less  than  twelve  hours  to 
perform,  and  not  infrequently  longer  than  that. 

Before  1796,  when  the  stage-coaches  were  first 
put  on  these  more  direct  roads,  the  only  method  of 
public  conveyance  was  by  the  heavy,  lumbering  so- 
called   "  fly-waggons,"   drawn   by  eight  horses,  and 


O      1 

•2  Q 


FIRST  DAY.  17 

taking  circuitous  routes  by  way  of  Stcyiiinij;  and 
Horsham  or  Lewes,  and  carrying  goods  in  addition 
to  passengers ;  or,  to  put  it  in  a  stricter  sense,  pas- 
sengers in  addition  to  the  usual  load  of  goods. 

These  cumbrous  conveyances  supplanted  a  yet 
more  primitive  means  of  transit.  Pack-horses  liad 
previously  been  used  on  what  were  then  the  ex- 
tremely narrow  lanes  which  wound  by  intricate  ways 
to  the  coast:  the  infrequent  lady-travellers  rode  then 
upon  pillions,  a  method  of  progression  which,  how- 
ever picturesque  it  may  seem  to  us  who  have  the 
advantage  of  Time's  enchanting  perspective,  must 
have  produced  in  but  few  miles  an  utter  weariness 
and  an  intolerable  aching  in  the  jolted  fair. 

There  were,  it  is  true,  stage-coaches  of  an  earlier 
establishment  in  these  counties  of  Surrey  and  Sussex, 
but  they  ran  to  towns  which  had  been  in  existence 
for  centuries  while  yet  Brighthelmstone  was  the 
"miserable  fishing-village"  of  early  chroniclers,  and 
then  only  to  those  which  were  within  a  reasonable 
distance  from  the  metropolis  ;  a  distance,  that  is  to 
sav,  which  a  moderately  good  pedestrian  of  our  times 
would  fiud  no  difficulty  in  covering  in  a  long  day's 
walk.  Thus  we  are  told  that  the  earliest  public 
conveyance  from  London  towards  the  Sussex  coast 
ran.  only  to  Tunbridge,  whence  journeys  were  per- 
formed on  horseback.  This  coach  is  that  refeiTcd 
to  in  the  diary  of  Samuel  Jeake,  junior,  of  Ivyc,  who 
writes  in  1682:  "  :May  22nd,  Monday,  1  rode  with 
my  wife  and  mother-in-law  to  London  for  diversion  ; 
came  thither  23,  Tuesday  :  had  hot  and  dry  weather. 
June    23,  Friday,  we   returned   from  London   in   ye 


1 8  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

stage-coach  to  Tonbridge,  and  24,  Saturday,  came 
to  Rye  at  night."  In  a  later  passage  this  gentleman 
of  the  peculiar  views  in  the  matter  of  diversions 
thanks  God  for  his  having  escaped  the  dangers  of 
the  execrable  roads  they  travelled. 

Erredge,  the  Brighton  historian,  gives  an  interest- 
ing, if  somewhat  ungrammatical,  note  respecting 
stage-coaches  : — 

"In  1 80 1  two  pair-horse  coaches  ran  between 
London  and  Brighton  on  alternate  days,  one  up,  the 
other  down,  and  they  were  driven  by  Messrs.  Cross- 
weller  and  Hine.  The  progress  of  these  coaches 
was  amusing.  The  one  from  London  left  the  Blos- 
soms Inn,  Lawrence  Lane,  at  7  a.m.,  the  passen- 
gers breaking  their  fast  at  the  Cock,  Sutton,  at  9. 
The  next  stoppage  for  the  purpose  of  refreshment 
was  at  the  Tangier,  Banstead  Downs — a  rural  little 
spot,  famous  for  its  elderberry  wine,  which  used  to 
be  brought  from  the  cottage  'roking  hot,'  and  on  a 
cold  wintry  morning  few  refused  to  partake  of  it. 
George  IV.  invariably  stopped  here  and  took  a  glass 
from  the  hand  of  Miss  Jeal  as  he  sat  in  his  carriage. 
The  important  business  of  luncheon  took  place  at 
Reigate,  where  sufficient  time  was  allowed  the  pas- 
sengers to  view  the  Barons'  Cave,  where,  it  is  said, 
the  barons  assembled  the  night  previous  to  their 
meeting  King  John  at  Runnymeade.  The  grand 
halt  for  dinner  was  made  at  Staplefield  Common, 
celebrated  for  its  famous  black  cherry-trees,  under 
the  branches  of  which,  when  the  fruit  was  ripe, 
the  coaches  were  allowed  to  draw  up  and  the  pas- 
sengers  to  partake  of  its   tempting   produce.     The 


fe^S=^£^^'- 


Ml.    AM)    MY    WIFK    AM)    DAUUHTKK. 
{f-'roin  a   Carka/im-  by  Ilcnry  Bunbury.') 


FIRS7   DAY.  19 

hostess  of  the  hostehy  here  was  famed  for  licr  i;i1)l)it- 
puddings,  "vvhich,  hot,  were  always  waiting  the  arrival 
of  the  coach,  and  to  which  the  travellers  never  failed 
to  do  such  ample  justice,  that  ordinarily  they  found 
it  quite  impossible  to  leave  at  the  hour  appointed  ; 
so  grogs,  pipes,  and  ale  were  ordered  in,  and,  to  use 
the  language  of  the  fraternity,  'not  a  wheel  wagged' 
for  two  hours.  Handcross  was  the  next  resting- 
place,  celebrated  for  its  '  neat '  liquors,  the  landlord 
of  the  inn  standing,  bottle  in  hand,  at  the  door.  He 
and  several  other  bonifaces  at  Friar's  Oak,  &c.,  had 
the  reputation  of  being  on  pretty  good  terms  with 
the  smugglers  who  carried  on  their  operations  with 
such  audacity  along  the  Sussex  coast. 

"  After  walking  up  Clayton  Hill,  a  cup  of  tea  was 
sometimes  found  to  be  necessary  at  Patcham,  after 
which  Brighton  was  safely  reached  at  7  p.m.  It 
must  be  understood  that  it  was  the  custom  for  the 
passengers  to  walk  up  all  the  hills,  and  even  some- 
times in  heavy  weather  to  give  a  push  behind  to 
assist  the  jaded  horses. 

"About  1809  a  great  revolution  took  place  in 
coach-travelling.  Some  gentlemen — at  the  head  of 
whom  was  the  late  Mr.  William  Bradford,  or,  as  he 
was  then  styled,  '  Miller '  Bradford — twelve  in  num- 
ber, formed  a  capital  by  shares  of  ^100  each,  and 
established  two  four-horse  coaches.  The  cattle 
were  cast  horses  of  the  Inniskilling  Dragoons,  then 
stationed  at  Brighton. 

"In  1805  another  vehicle  of  the  same  chiss,  tlie 
'  Bellerophon,'  a  huge  concern,  built  witli  two  com- 
partments, one  carrying  six,  the  other  four   inside. 


20  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

and  with  several  out,  was  driven  by  Mr.  Hine.  This 
coach  received  its  name  from  the  ship  in  which 
Bonaparte,  after  his  defeat  at  Waterloo,  was  con- 
veyed to  exile  at  St.  Helena.  The  '  Bellerophon ' 
was  soon  found  to  be  too  heavy  for  the  improving 
speed,  and  was  abandoned  for  lighter  vehicles, 
until  travelling  attained  its  perfection  on  the 
Brighton  Road,  the  time  taken  in  the  transit 
having  diminished  from  twelve  hours  to  five,  and 
on  one  occasion  the  '  Quicksilver,'  with  a  King's 
Speech  of  William  IV.,  made  a  journey  down  in 
three  hours  and  forty  minutes.  From  the  year  1822, 
at  different  periods  of  the  year,  no  less  than  sixty 
coaches  were  on  the  road,  thirty  each  way." 

What  a  grand  and  glorious  procession  that  must 
have  been,  and  especially  when  the  light  four-inside 
fast  coaches  came  into  use  in  1823.  The  imagina- 
tion pictures  them  careering  along  at  all  hours,  the 
coachmen  all  with  red,  weather-beaten  faces,  wearing 
uncanny,  low-crowned  beaver  hats  and  portentous 
overcoats  with  those  amazing  seven  capes;  the  pas- 
sengers, who  have  started  some  of  them  maybe  at 
7  A.M.,  sleep}-,  and  (in  winter)  horribly  cold,  and  the 
elder  ones  in  terror  at  the  astonishing  pace,  to  which 
they  could  not  by  any  possibility  become  accustomed. 
Such  old  fogeys  mostly  patronised  the  "Life  Pre- 
server," which  started  every  morning  at  8.45  from 
the  Cross  Keys,  Cheapside.  The  rushing  "  Vivid  " 
would  have  been  altogether  too  great  a  terror  to 
them. 

Many  and  distinguished  were  the  amateur  whips 
of  this  road,  which,   though  it  can  boast  no   such 


FIRST  DAY.  21 

artists  of  the  ribbons  as  were  Jack  ^^oo(ly  and 
Charles  Ward,  can  at  least  claim  a  social  refinement 
wanting  elsewhere.  It  is  curious  to  see  how  coacli- 
ing  has  always  been,  even  in  its  serious  days,  before 
steam  was  thought  of,  the  chosen  amusement  of 
wealthy  and  aristocratic  whips.  Of  those  who 
affected  the  Brighton  lload  may  be  mentioned  the 
Marquis  of  Worcester,  who  drove  the  "  Beaufort,"  Sir 
St.  Vincent  Cotton  of  the  "  Age,"  and  the  Hon.  Fred. 
Jerningham,  who  drove  the  day-mail.  The  ''Age.' 
too,  had  been  driven  by  ^[r.  Stevenson,  a  gentleman 
and  a  graduate  of  Cambridge,  whose  "passion 
for  the  bench,''  as  "Nimrod"  says,  superseded  all 
other  worldly  ambitions.  He  became  a  coachman 
by  profession,  and  a  good  professional  he  made ;  but 
he  had  not  forgotten  his  education  and  early  train- 
ing, and  he  was,  as  a  whip,  singularly  refined  and 
courteous.  He  caused,  at  a  certain  change  of  horses 
on  the  road,  a  silver  sandwich-box  to  be  handed 
round  to  the  passengers  by  his  servant,  with  an  oflcr 
of  a  glass  of  sherry,  should  any  desire  one.  Another 
gentleman,  "connected  with  the  first  families  in 
Wales,"  whose  father  long  represented  his  native 
county  in  Parliament,  horsed  and  drove  one  side  of 
this  ground  with  ^Ir.  Stevenson. 

Coaching  authorities  give  the  palm  for  artistry  to 
whips  of  other  roads  :  they  considered  the  excellence 
of  this  as  fatal  to  the  production  of  those  qualities 
that  went  to  make  an  historic  name.  This  road  had 
become,  as  even  "Viator"  acknowledges,  "perhaps 
the  most  nearly  perfect,  and  certainly  tht>  most 
fashionable  of  all;"  and  private  vehicles,  light  and 


22  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

airy  of  build,  were  driven  along  its  excellent  surface, 
that  would  not  have  been  trusted  on  the  very  much 
less  admirable  roads  of  other  parts  of  the  kingdom. 
Indeed,  in  these  latter  years  of  the  coaching  age 
were  to  be  seen  on  these  vastly  improved  roads 
many  and  curious  vehicles.  Phaetons,  barouches, 
sociables,  curricles,  gigs,  and  whiskies,  driven  by 
their  owners,  were  used  as  private  conveyances,  and 
jostled  the  numerous  stage-  and  mail-coaches  plying 
for  hire.  Young  sprigs  derived  a  fearful  joy  from 
driving  the  smart  but  essentially  dangerous  con- 
trivance known  then  as  "  the  high-perch  phaeton." 
It  was  generally  two-horsed,  and  was,  as  its  name 
foreshadows,  of  a  giddy  and  amazing  altitude. 
When  you  learn  that  it  was  of  a  thin  and  spidery 
build,  and  that  these  amateurs  of  the  ribbons  prided 
themselves  on  their  high-spirited  cattle,  you  are  not 
surprised  at  hearing  of  constant  and  dangerous  spills. 

But  here  we  are  at  Streatham,  the  sometime 
village  of  a  certain  literary  repute,  and  an  uncertain 
and  long-dead  fame  as  a  Spa ;  for  here  did  folks 
come,  in  the  early  years  of  the  eighteenth  century 
to  drink  the  waters  issuing  from  what  the  quaint 
Aubrey  calls  the  "sower  and  weeping  ground"  by 
the  Common. 

It  is  only  when  this  Streatham  is  reached,  built  on 
the  downward  slope  of  its  long  hill,  that  one  realises 
fully  the  fact  of  being  on  that  famous  road  to 
Brighton  which  was  at  once  so  notorious  and  so 
brilliant  in  the  days  of  the  Prince  Eegent  and  the 
Augustan  age  of  coaching.  Streatham,  indeed,  still 
retains  something  of  its  character  of  roadside  village, 


V    .-A. 


FIRST  DAY.  23 

a  village  dating  from  the  formation  of  the  Itoman 
Stane  Street,  and  to  which  it  owes  both  name  and 
existence.  True,  it  owns  nothing  of  even  a  reputable 
age,  and  the  glory  of  that  brief-lived  Spa  has  de- 
parted. Even  Thrale  Park  has  gone  the  way  of 
all  suburban  estates  in  these  days  of  the  speculative 
builder,  the  house  having  been  pulled  down  in  1863, 
and  its  lands  laid  out  in  building  plots.  Lysons, 
writing  of  its  demesne  in  1792,  says  that  "  Adjoining 
the  houfe  is  aniuclofure  of  about  100  acres,  furrounded 
with  a  fhrubbery  and  gravel-walk  of  nearly  two  miles 
in  circumference."  Trim  villas  now  occupy  the  spot, 
and  the  memory  of  the  house  itself  is  fading.  Here 
is  a  view  of  it,  taken  just  before  operations  were 
commenced  for  pulling  down.  Such  a  view  was, 
singularly  enough,  difficult  to  obtain  ;  there  is  not 
even  a  representation  of  the  place  in  the  local  history. 
Save  for  its  size,  the  house  makes  no  brave  show, 
it  being  merely  one  of  many  hundreds  of  mansions 
built  in  the  seventeenth  century,  of  a  debased  Classic 
type.  One  regrets  the  house  because  of  its  literary 
associations,  and  the  estate  for  twofold  reasons. 

Even  now,  as  these  lines  are  being  written, 
another,  and  the  largest,  of  Streatham  estates  is 
being  given  over  to  the  builder.  Seventy  acres  or 
thereby  of  delightful  gardens  at  Lcigham  Court  are 
given  over  to  destruction,  and  Sticatliaui  Is  wv^ldcd 
by  one  more  link  to  London. 

But  yet  and  yet,  though  now  nuMcly  on  the  inner 
suburban  circle  of  London,  the  air  of  ihc  village 
clings  about  Streatham,  seemingly  inalienable,  and 
the  hillside,  roadside  common,  woinleifully  jJreserv.Ml 


24  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

through  the  mystic  agency  of  the  Statute  of  Merton  : 
so  long  as  they  do  not  rail  it  round  paikwise,  the 
"  villagers  "  shall  still  be  something  more  than  are 
ordinary  suburban  dwellers  under  the  mighty  shadow 
of  London :  they  shall  still  continue  with  that  fine 
sense  of  space  and  elbow-room  with  which  it  endows 
them. 

Then  they  have  their  traditions,  with  which  not 
many  villages  are  so  well  endowed.  First  there  is 
Dr.  Johnson,  a  figure  which  will  ahvays  be  re- 
membered, thanks  to  his  biographer,  and  shall  ever 
live  in  their  memory,  as  coming  down  from  London 
to  Thrale's  house,  a  grumbling,  unwieldy  figure, 
with  the  manners  of  a  bear  and  a  heart  as  tender  as 
a  child's  beating  beneath  that  unpromising  exterior. 
Wig,  too,  awry  and  singed  in  front,  from  his  short- 
sighted porings  over  the  midnight  oil,  his  was  no 
pacifying  presence  when  he  happened  upon  that 
literary-artistic  tea-table  at  Thrale  Place.  He  met 
over  those  teacups  a  brilliant  company,  Reynolds 
and  Garrick,  and  the  lively  Fanny  Burney  among 
other  lesser  lights,  and  partook  there  of  innumerable 
cups  of  tea,  dispensed  at  that  hospitable  board  by 
Mrs.  Thrale.  That  historic  teapot  is  still  extant, 
and  has  a  capacity  of  three  quarts  ;  specially  chosen, 
doubtless,  in  view  of  the  Doctor's  visits.  Ye  gods  ! 
what  floods  of  congo  were  consumed  within  that 
house  in  Thrale  Park  ! 

Johnson  once,  we  are  told,  went  a-hunting  at 
Streatham,  and  acquitted  himself  well  upon  that 
notable  occasion.  Would  that  we  had  been  there 
to  see  ! 


■<, 


FIRST  DAY.  25 

But  all  things  have  their  end,  and  the  day  was  to 
come  when  Johnson  should  bid  his  last  farewell  to 
Streatham.  This  he  did  in  this  wise,  to  quote  from 
his  diary  : — "  Sunday,  went  to  church  at  Streatham. 
Templo  vcdedixi  cum  osculo."  And  so,  kissing  the 
old  porch  of  St.  Leonard's,  the  lexicographer  do- 
parted  with  heavy  heart. 

This  Church  of  St.  Leonards  still  contains  the 
Latin  epitaph  which  the  Doctor  wrote  to  commemo- 
rate the  easy  virtues  of  his  friend  Henry  Thrale,  but 
alterations  and  restorations  have  changed  almost 
all  else.  It  is  curious  to  note  the  learned  Doctor's 
indignation  when  asked  to  write  an  English  epitaph 
for  setting  up  in  Westminster  Abbey.  The  great 
authority  on  the  English  language,  the  compiler  of 
that  monumental  dictionary,  exclaimed  that  he  would 
not  desecrate  its  walls  with  an  inscription  in  his  own 
tongue.     Thus  the  pedant ! 

There  is  one  Latin  epitaph  at  Streatham  that  reads 
curiously.  It  is  on  a  tablet  by  Hichard  Westmacott 
to  Frederick  Howard,  w^ho  m  pugna  Waterlooensi 
occiso.  The  battle  of  Waterloo  looks  strange  in  that 
garb. 

But  Latin  is  frequent  and  free  here.  The  mural 
tablets  that  jostle  one  another  down  the  aisles  are 
abounding  in  that  tongue,  and  the  little  brass  to  an 
ecclesiastic,  now  nailed  upon  the  woodwork  toward 
the  west  end  of  the  north  aisle,  is  not  free  from  it. 
So  the  shade  of  the  Doctor,  if  ever  it  revisits  the 
scenes  of  his  life,  might  well  be  satisfied  witli  the 
quantity  of  Latin  to  be  read  here,  altliough  it  is  not 
inconceivable  he  would  cavil  at  the  quality  of  it. 


26  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

The  swelling  graveyard  of  this  parish  church,  hard 
by  the  clear  ringing  anvil  of  the  blacksmith's  forge, 
holds  the  remains  of  many  victims  of  the  footpads 
and  cut-throats  who  infested  these  outskirts  of  Lon- 
don in  the  "  good  old  times."  The  Common  and 
Thornton  Heath  were  the  lurking-places  of  so  many 
desperate  characters  that  it  was  extremely  unsafe 
to  venture  abroad  o'  nights  unless  escorted  and 
heavily  armed.  Even  in  daytime  the  wayfarer,  if 
well  advised,  carried  his  pistols  handy. 

Meanwhile,  on  a  neighbouring  gallows  there  swung 
in  chains,  creaking  in  the  wind,  the  corpse  of  an 
occasional  highway  murderer  or  robber  as  a  warning 
to  his  surviving  fellows.  There  is  a  curious  old  book 
in  the  British  Museum  with  an  interminable  title, 
called  "  Britannia  Depicta,  or  Ogilby  Improv'd," 
published  in  1731,  which  shows  engraved  plates  of 
roads  from  London,  and  gives  on  the  way  from  town 
to  Croydon  two  such  gallows,  one  where  the  road 
branches  to  Tooting,  and  another  at,  approximately, 
Thornton  Heath  for  the  use  of  Croydon.  These,  it 
would  seem,  were  permanent  structures,  and  Croy- 
don's was  extra  large — a  significant  commentary 
either  upon  the  size  of  that  town  or  its  proportion 
of  evil-doers. 

Down  through  Lower  Streatham,  passing  on  the 
way  a  cyclist's  rest  and  a  tiny  stream,  a  branch  of 
the  Wandle,  we  came  to  Norbury,  where  a  pleasant 
park  skirts  the  way,  and  a  railway  bridge  at  Norbury 
Station  spans  the  road,  where  once,  in  "  the  good 
old  times,"  the  footpad  plied  his  dreadful  trade. 
"Then,"  to  quote  Mr.  Raskin,  "the  Crystal  Palace 


FIRST  DAY. 


27 


STREAM    AT   NORBUKY. 


28  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

came,  for  ever  spoiliug  the  view  through  all  its 
compass."  ^ 

It  haunts  you,  indeed,  all  the  way  down  Streatham 
Hill  and  through  Norbury,  sparkling  away  to  the 
left  in  the  sunshine  with  all  the  radiance  of  that 
"polished  handle  of  the  big  front  door"  which 
Gilbert  sings — and  with  as  vulgar  a  lustre.  And 
yet  there  were  who  likened  this  coruscating  abomi- 
nation to  much  that  is  beautiful  in  nature.  But 
that  was  in  '51,  when  the  Great  Orgie  was  held. 

To  Norbury  succeeds  Thornton  Heath,  now  a 
continuation  of  Croydon,  eminently  respectable  and 
dull.  Here  an  ancient  roadside  horse-pond,  a  sur- 
vival from  those  times  when  Thornton  Heath  was  a 
name  of  some  considerable  dread  to  travellers,  has 
been  fenced  round  and  furnished  with  a  Jubilee 
fountain,  which  (of  course)  runs  dry,  as  an  Irishman 
might  say.  That  fact  suggests  what  might  prove  an 
interesting  inquiry  into  the  causes  of  so-called  orna- 
mental fountains  so  rarely  fulfilling  those  functions 
which  alone  excuse  their  existence. 

Presently  we  looked  our  last  at  the  Great  Conserva- 
tory and  came  at  length  into  Croydon,  as  into  an- 
other metropolis  in  the  full  tide  of  business.  It  was 
now  past  nine  o'clock,  and  belated  business  men 
were  hurrying  to  catch  their  trains  to  London  city. 
Cyclists,  too,  there  were  in  numbers,  cursing  by  all 
their  gods,  consigning  tramways  and  their  promoters 
to  regions  where  the  earning  of  dividends  is  unknown, 
and  where  the  fires  burn  unfailingly,  because  they 

could  not  steer  clear  of  the  rails  that  run  throusrh 

o 

1  "  Praeterita,"  ]».  70. 


FIRST  DAY.  29 

Croydon's  busy  streets.  Croydon  is  not  beloved  of 
the  cyclist.  What  of  antiquity  and  pictnrcsqueness 
this  place  possessed  has  well-nigh  all  gone  in  the 
incursion  of  villadom  and  the  building  of  shops 
whose  huge  plate-glass  fronts  would  not  discredit 
Bond  Street  itself,  and  Archiepiscopal  Croydon 
stands  revealed  only  in  the  Palace  remains,  the 
AVhitgift  schools,  the  parish  church,  and  the  charm- 
ing Plospital  of  the  Holy  Trinity.  But  this  last 
makes  amends  for  much  else.  A  solitude  amidst 
the  throng,  it  stands  in  North  End,  by  the  High 
Street,  remarkable  in  the  simplicity  of  its  screening 
walls  of  dark  red  brick,  elbowed  on  one  side  by  a 
draper's  shop  in  all  its  impertinence  of  flashing 
plate-glass.  Once  within  the  outer  portal  of  the 
Hospital,  ornamented  overhead  with  the  arms  of  the 
See  of  Canterbury  and  eloquent  with  its  motto, 
''Qui  dat  pauperi  non  indigebit,'^  we  were  in  an- 
other world.  The  building  is,  as  old  Aubrey  quaintly 
puts  it,  "  a  handsome  edifice,  erected  in  the  manner 
of  a  College,  by  the  Right  Reverend  Father  in  God, 
John  Whitgift,  late  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,"  The 
dainty  quadrangle,  set  about  with  grass  lawns  and 
bright  flowers,  is  formed  on  three  sides  by  tiny 
houses  of  two  floors,  where  dwell  the  poor  brothers 
and  sisters  of  this  old  foundation,  twenty  brothers 
and  sixteen  sisters,  who,  beside  lodging,  receive  each 
^40  and  ^30  yearly  respectively.  The  fourth  side, 
and  the  farthest  from  the  street,  is  occupied  by  the 
Hall,  the  A\'arden's  rooms,  and  the  Chapel,  all  in 
very  much  the  same  condition  as  they  were  in  at  their 
buildinu'.     That  old  oak  table  in  the  Hall  is  dated 


30  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

1 6 1 4,  and  much  of  the  stained  glass  is  of  sixteenth- 
century  date. 

But  it  is  in  the  Warden's  rooms  above  that  the 
eye  is  feasted  with  old  wood-work,  ancient  panelling, 
black  with  lapse  of  time,  quaint  muniment  chests, 
curious  records,  and  the  like. 

These  were  the  rooms  specially  reserved  for  his 
personal  use  during  his  lifetime  by  the  pious  Arch- 
bishop Whitgift. 

Here  is  a  case  exhibiting  the  original  titles  to  the 
lands  on  which  the  Hospital  is  built,  and  with  which 
it  is  endowed  ;  formidable  sheets  of  parchment,  bear- 
ing many  seals,  and,  what  does  duty  for  one,  a  gold 
angel  of  Edward  VI. 

These  are  ideal  rooms,  rooms  which  delight  one 
with  their  unspoiled  sixteenth-century  air.  The  sun 
streams  through  the  western  windows  over  their 
deep  embrasures,  lighting  up  finely  the  darksome 
wood-work  into  patches  of  brilliance  ;  and  as  we 
leave,  we  envy  the  Warden  his  lodging,  so  perfect  a 
survival  of  more  spacious  days.  Indeed,  we  scrupled 
not  to  tell  him  so,  at  which  he  is  well  pleased,  for 
he  has  a  loving  interest  in  the  old  place  and  his  old 
people.  Then  he  shows  us  the  Chapel,  quite  a  little 
building,  and  a  dusky. 

Here  is  not  pomp  of  carving  nor  vanity  of  blazon- 
ing, for  the  good  Archbishop,  mindful  of  economy, 
would  none  of  these.  The  seats  and  benches  are 
contemporary  with  the  building  and  are  rough-hewn. 
On  the  western  wall  hangs  the  founder's  portrait, 
black-framed  and  mellow,  rescued  from  the  boys  of 
the  Whitgift  schools  ere  quite  destroyed,  and  on  the 


FIRST  DAY. 


31 


other  walls  are  the  portrait  of  a  lady,  supposed  to  be 
the  Archbishop's  niece,  and  a  ghastly  representation 
of  Death  as  a   skeleton   diyfi^in":  a  "'rave.     But  all 


"^ 


Jio'y  Qlnily 


these  tilings  are  seen  but  dimly,  for  tlic  light  is  very 
feeble. 

At  length  we  leave  this  harbour  of  refuge,  and  are 
out  upon  the  roaring  street  once  more.    The^Warden, 


32  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

who  is  kindness  itself,  accompanies  us,  and  points 
out  some  timbered  houses  of  a  prodigious  age  in  a 
disreputable  quarter  of  the  town,  and  occupied  as 
fourpenny  lodgings  by  tramps.  Among  other  things 
here,  he  shows  us  the  inn  which  John  Ruskin's 
grandmother  kept.  You  shall  find  particulars  of  it 
set  forth  fully  in  "  Prseterita,"  thuswise  :  ^ — 

" .  .  .  Of  my  father's  ancestors  I  know  nothing, 
nor  of  my  mother's  more  than  that  my  maternal 
grandmother  was  the  landlady  of  the  '  Old  King's 
Head '  in  Market  Street,  Croydon  ;  and  I  wish  she 
were  alive  again,  and  I  could  paint  her  Simone 
Memmi's  'King's  Head'  for  a  sign."  And  Mr. 
Ruskiu  adds  farther  on  :  -  "  Meantime  my  aunt  had 
remained  in  Croydon  and  married  a  baker.  .  .  .  My 
aunt  lived  in  the  little  house  still  standing — or  which 
was  so  four  months  ago,^ — the  fashionablest  in 
Market  Street,  having  actually  two  windows  over 
the  shop,  in  the  second  story"  (sic). 

This  is  a  quarter  of  Croydon  that  will  soon  be 
entirely  of  the  past.  As  it  is  the  oldest,  so  also  it  is 
the  most  disreputable  part  of  the  town  ;  more  squalid 
than  the  London  slums,  dirtier  than  a  Glasgow 
rookeiy,  more  offensive  to  the  sense  of  smell  than 
Drury  Lane  o'  summer  evenings,  and  at  the  same 
time  more  picturesque  than  Venice.  Here  the  true- 
born  British  tramp  lolls,  free  as  air  and  ineffably 
foul,  in  the  dark  and  cavernous  doorways  of  these 
crazy  old  buildings,  and  when  the  sunlight  comes 
down  and  lights  upon  the  cobble-stones  and  makes 

1  "  Pr?eterita,"  p.  9.  -  "  Prreterita,"  pp.  12,  18. 

»  The  Preface  to  "  Prseterita  "  is  dated  loth  May  1885. 


FIRST  DAY.  ^^ 

great  patches  of  glory  here,  and  mysterious  black 
shadows  there,  and  tender  half-lights  otherwhere, 
I  declare  he  and  the  place  both  wear  an  extremely 
paintable  look.  But  then  that  tramp  has  such  a 
vocabulary,  and  the  scent  of  the  place  smites  you  so 
forcibly  in  the  face,  that  you  flee. 

This  is  Middle  Street,  at  Avhose  end  stands  the 
'*  Old  King's  Head,"  fronting  on  to  the  open  space 
of  Market  Street,  where  a  street-market  of  the  type 
familiar  to  most  Londoners  is  held.  Opposite  stands 
the  building  of  the  old  jail,  now  disused  from  its  old- 
time  purpose  and  converted  into  business  premises. 
In  its  basement  are  still  to  be  seen  the  prisoners^ 
cells,  empty  of  prisoners,  filled  with  store  of  corn 
and  flour,  and  seeds,  and  closed  still  with  their 
original  doors,  whereon  you  may  read,  carved  in  the 
wood,  how  so-and-so  had  free  lodging  within  for  six 
months,  and  others  for  other  periods. 

At  one  end,  with  an  iron-barred  window  looking 
out  upon  the  street,  is  the  debtors'  cell.  That  time  is 
within  the  memory  of  living  townsmen  when  debtors 
were  imprisoned  here,  and  when  a  written  notice 
was  exhibited  at  that  window  imploring  passers-by 
to  "Remember  the  poor  debtors."  They  do  not 
need  cells  for  debtors  now  at  Croydon ;  but  in  the 
other  departments  the  business  has  so  greatly  in- 
creased that  the  establishment  has  been  "removed 
to  larger  and  more  commodious  premises." 

An  you  are  interested  in  the  Croydon  of  the  past, 
you  may  learn  many  facts  of  an  amazing  antiquity, 
even  that  this  town,  which  we  look  upon  as  ancient 
enough,   is,   properly   speaking.   New   Croydon ;  for 

G 


34  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

this  mediseval  town  had  a  hoary  predecessor,  which 
was  situated  otherwhere,  a  mile  or  so  to  the  east, 
where  is  no  trace  nor  rehc  to  be  found  at  this  day, 
but  which  antiquarians  have  proved  among  them- 
selves to  have  existed  in  Roman  civilisation  under 
the  name  of  Noviomagus. 

But  coming  down  to  Elizabethan  times,  we  shall 
find  the  Croydon  of  that  glorious  reign  to  have  been 
a  veritable  Black  Country  by  reason  of  the  great 
charcoal-burning  industry  carried  on  then,  and  even 
until  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

These  counties  of  Surrey  and  Sussex  were  at  one 
time  little  else  than  huge  forests,  in  which  the  oak 
predominated,  and  charcoal  was  manufactured  here 
for  the  use  of  London  in  days  when  coal  was  prac- 
tically unknown.  Indeed,  it  was  not  until  coal 
became  generally  used  that  Croydon  lost  its  evil 
reputation,  and  that  the  iron-smelting  industries  of 
these  southern  counties  became  extinct.  What  the 
town  was  like  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centuries  we  may  gather  in  some  sort  from  these 
curious  excerpts  from  contemporary  plays  and 
poems.  Thus  Patrick  Hannay  writes  in  one  of 
his  songs,  published  during  the  reign  of  Charles 
the  Second : — 

"  In  midst  of  these  stands  Croydon  clothed  in  blacke, 
In  a  low  bottom  sinke  of  all  these  hills ; 
And  is  receipt  of  all  the  durtie  Avracke, 
Which  from  their  tops  still  in  abundance  trills. 
The  Tinpau'd  lanes  with  muddie  mire  it  fills  : 
If  one  shower  falls,  or  if__that  blessing  stay, 
Yon  well  may  scent,  but  never  see  your  wa}'. 


FIRST  DA  Y. 

"  And  those  Avho  there  inhabit,  suting  well 
"With  such  a  place,  doe  either  Nigro's  seeme. 
Or  harbingers  for  Pluto,  Prince  of  Hell, 
Or  his  fire-beaters  one  might  rightly  deeme ; 
Their  sight  would  make  a  soule  of  hell  to  dreame ; 
Besmeared  Avith  sut,  and  breathing  pitchie  smoake, 
"Which  (save  themselves)  a  living  wight  would  choke. 

"  These,  with  the  demi-gods  still  disagreeing 

(As  vice  with  virtue  ever  is  at  Jarre), 

"With  all  who  in  the  pleasant  woods  have  being. 

Doe  undertake  an  everlasting  warre, 

Cuts  downe  their  groves,  and  often  doe  them  skarre ; 
And  in  a  close-pent  fire  their  arbours  burne, 
"Whileas  the  Muses  can  doe  nought  biit  indurne. 


"  To  all  proud  dames  I  wish  no  greater  hell, 
"Whoe  doe  disdaine  of  chastly  profered  love. 
Then  to  that  place  confin'd  there  ever  dwel ; 
That  place  their  pride's  dear  price  might  justly  prove  :         , 
For  if  (which  God  forbid)  my  dear  should  move 
Me  not  come  nie  her — for  to  passe  my  troth — 
Place  her  but  there,  and  I  shall  keep  mine  oath." 

That  is  a  sufficiently  vivid  picture  of  an  ancient 
Black  Country,  and  this,  from  an  Elizabethan  play, 
is  not  less  convincing  : — 

"  Marry,"  quoth  he  that  looked  like  Lucifer, 
"  though  I  am  black,  I  am  not  the  Devill,  but 
indeed  a  collyer  from  Croydon." 

The  town  is  not  grimy  nor  black-canopied  now, 
although  grown  to  a  monstrous  size,  and  with  a 
population  of  some  ninety  thousand  souls,  a  vast 
increase  upon  the  meagre  six  thousand  of  iSoi. 

A  place  well  beloved  of  City  men,  its  distance  of  a 
short  ten  miles  from  town  has  resulted  in  this  huge 


36  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

growth,  absorbent  of  much  fair  country  and  respon- 
sible for  the  remarkable  number  of  railway  stations, 
from  A^'est  to  East  Croydon,  from  South  Croydon  to 
Addiscombe,  that  are  dotted  about. 

'Twas  long  past  one  o'clock  ere  we  left  the  town, 
and  almost  two  before  its  southern  outskirts  had 
been  passed.  Not  far  from  the  roadside  in  this 
direction  is  another  place  where  Croydon's  gallows 
trees  held  aloft  in  other  times  their  dreadful  fruit. 

In  olden  days  w^ere  but  few  townships  but  had 
their  wild  commons  or  dreary  heaths  whereon  local 
malefactors  expiated  their  crimes  and  swung,  rattling 
in  the  breeze,  a  terror  to  timid  folk  who  chanced 
their  way  of  eventide,  in  receipt  of  stray  whiffs  of 
well-hanged  murderer  or  common  thief.  Those  were 
truly  robust  times.  The  law  in  these  days,  we  are 
told,  executes  assassins  not  in  revenge,  but  by  way 
of  warning,  as  a  deterrent,  in  fact ;  but  where  is  your 
warning  in  this  era  of  private  executions  and  speedy 
interments  in  quicklime-bestrewn  graves  ?  Our  fore- 
fathers had  a  better  way.  Their  criminals  hung 
rotting  in  terrorem  in  chains  on  gibbets  in  public 
places,  disappearing  only  to  give  place  to  fresh 
subjects,  and  their  brethren  yet  in  life  were  thus 
constantly  reminded  of  what  end  awaited  their  evil 
courses.  Nay,  remoter  ancestors  were  yet  more 
grim  ;  one  political  offender,  or  murderer,  or  high- 
wayman, one  horse-thief  or  sheep-stealer,  would  then 
serve  half  a  county,  with  one  piece  in  this  village, 
another  fragment  in  that,  a  leg  or  so  otherwhere,  and 
so  on,  as  often  as  not  seethed  in  pitch  for  their  better 
preservation,  and  stuck  on  poles  for  the  edification 


FIRST  DAY.  37 

of  the  lieges.  There  is  a  certain  deliglitfiilly  horrid 
pictiiresqueness  in  all  this.  You  might  then  go 
abroad  o'  niglits  and  get  a  fine  romantic  thrill  of 
horror  by  encountering  unawares  one  of  these  ghastly 
objects ;  now  you  may  find  nothing  savouring  more 
of  romance  than  skeleton  jerry-built  houses,  but  of 
these  more  than  a  sufficiency. 

It  is  not  until  the  twelfth  milestone  is  passed 
that  one  emerges  from  pavement  upon  really  open 
country,  passing  to  it  through  South  Croydon  and 
Purley,  whose  mean  roadside  houses  affront  the  fair 
face  of  Nature. 

It  was  here,  at  Purley  House,  to  the  left  of  the 
road,  that  John  Home  Tooke,  that  contentious 
partisan  and  stolid  begetter  of  seditious  tracts,  lived — 
when,  indeed,  he  was  not  detained  -within  the  four 
walls  of  some  prison  for  political  offences.  He 
was  the  author  of  that  deep  philoloi2jical  treatise, 
"EIIEA  HTEPOENTA,  or  the  Diversions  of 
Purley,"  which  some  rash  scribe,  blissfully  uncon- 
scious of  fallacy,  recently  called  "  that  amusing 
book."  He  ought  to  know  and  be  compelled  to 
read  it,  and  then  be  called  upon  to  give  his  views 
upon  its  amusing  qualities. 

Tooke  had  intended  to  be  buried  in  the  grounds 
of  his  residence,  Purley  House,  but  when  he  died 
in  1S12  at  Wimbledon,  his  mortal  coil  was  laid  to 
rest  at  Ealing ;  and  so  it  chanced  that  the  vault  he 
had  constructed  in  his  garden  remained,  after  all, 
untenanted,  with  the  unfinished  epitaph: — 


38  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

John  Horne  Tooke, 

Late  Proprietor  and  now  Occupier 

of  this  spot, 

was  born  in  June  1736, 

Died  in 

Aged         years, 
Contented  and  (Irateful. 

Puiiey  House  is  still  standing,  though  consider- 
ably altered,  and  presents  few  features  reminiscent 
of  the  eighteenth-century  politician,  and  fewer  still 
of  the  Puritan  Bradshaw,  the  regicide,  who  once 
resided  here.  It  stands  in  the  midst  of  tall  elms, 
and  looks  as  far  removed  from  political  dissensions 
as  may  well  be  imagined,  with  its  trim  lawns  and 
trellised  walls,  o'ergrown  in  summer  by  a  tangle  of 
greenery. 

It  is  a  welcome  contrast  to  the  mean  ravellings  of 
Croydon  town  along  the  high-road.  But  though 
they  do  much  to  spoil  the  country-side  here,  this  is 
not  to  say  that  folk  have  not  their  appreciations 
in  these  parts ;  for  just  here,  where  the  old  road 
branches  to  the  left,  a  sign-post  states,  in  bold 
letters,  "  To  Riddlesdown,  the  prettiest  spot  in 
Surrey,"  a  surprise  in  sign-posts,  which  generally 
confine  themselves  to  bald,  dry  statements  of  facts, 
leaving  controversial  matter  to  rival  guide-books. 

But  then,  'tis  possible  some  advertising  scheme 
accounts  for  this  enthusiasm. 

So  we  mused  as  we  ascended  the  long  hill  of 
Smitham  Bottom  ;  but  of  a  truth  the  Brighton  Road 
is  singular  in  sign-posts,  as  in  other  respects,  not 
the  least  remarkable  feature  along  its  course  being 
the  extraordinary  number  of  asylums,  public  institu- 


FIRST  DAY. 


39 


tions,  and  schools  seen  on  cither  hand.  The  Ware- 
housemen and  Clerks'  Schools  are  on  the  crest  of 
Kussell  Hill,  as  yoii  leave  Croydon  ;  the  Reedham 
Asylum  for  fatherless  children  is  away  to  the  left ; 
at  Cane  Hill  the  huge  building  of  the  Surrey  County 
Lunatic  Asylum  looks  down  upon  the  road  from  its 
lofty  perch ;  and  away  through  Redhill  down  to 
Brighton  occur  the   Earlswood  Asylum,   and   many 


''MB' 


COULSDON — A   ROADSIDE   STATION, 


more,  and,  as  you  at  length  reach  your  destination, 
the  ]5righton  Workhouse  frowns  a-down  the  road. 

The  little  hamlet  of  Smitham  Bottom,  in  the  pass 
of  that  name,  in  the  North  Downs,  is,  in  all  but  the 
fairest  weather,  a  very  forlorn  concourse  of  about  a 
dozen  houses,  occupying  a  little  elevated  plateau 
amid  the  hills.  The  London,  Pn-ighton,  and  South 
Coast  Railway  follows  beside  the   road,  and  has  a 


40  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

new  station  for  Coulsclon  a  little  way  beyond,  where 
the  road  begins  to  descend  again  in  the  direction  of 
Merstham. 

The  fretful  rookeries  of  Conlsdon  woods  were 
already  echoing  with  their  early  evening  clamour  as 
we  drew  near,  the  circling  homeward  flight  of  their 
inhabitants  livening  the  pale  sky  where  the  windy 
elms  revealed  their  lofty  nests,  seen  clearly  through 
the  thin  foliage  of  spring.  There  was  in  all  the  air 
a  freshness,  a  stimulus,  a  certain  life-giving  quality 
which  this  season  alone,  of  all  the  four,  possesses, 
and  everything  spoke  eloquently  of  the  coming  glory 
of  summer. 

A-down  the  road,  where  some  few  sorry  outlying 
houses  of  Chipstead  village  and  a  mean  settlement 
known  as  Hooley  line  the  way,  the  railway  plunges 
into  a  deep  cutting  of  some  1 20  feet  in  depth,  driven 
through  the  chalk.  Running  irregularly  beside  it  is 
the  smaller,  shallower  cutting  of  the  abandoned  iron 
tramway  from  Merstham  to  Wandsworth,  made  in 
1805  ^^cl  still  traceable,  though  disused  these  fifty 
years  and  more.  Alders  and  hazels  grow  on  its  sides, 
and  its  bridges  are  ivy-grown  ;  primroses  and  violets, 
too,  grow  there,  wondrously  profuse. 

And  here,  by  your  leave,  we  will  turn  aside  up  a 
lane  to  the  right  hand,  toward  the  village  of  Chip- 
stead,  where  lies  Sir  Edward  Banks  in  the  little 
churchyard.  He  began  life  in  the  humblest  manner, 
and  worked  as  a  labourer,  a  "  navvy,"  upon  this  same 
obsolete  tramway,  afterwards  rising  to  be  an  em- 
ployer of  labour  and  a  contractor  to  the  Government. 
You  shall  see  all  these  things  recorded  of  him  upon 


yOv^^ 


./ 


ii 


.\i 


■\\ 


FIRST  DAY.  41 

a  memorial  tablet  in  the  church  of  Chipstead,  a  tablet 
which  lets  nothing  of  his  worth  escape  you,  so  prolix 
is  it.' 

It  was  while  delving  amid  the  chalk  of  this  tram- 
way cutting  that  Edward  Banks  first  became  ac- 
quainted with  this  village,  and  so  charmed  with  it 
was  he  that  he  expressed  a  desire,  when  his  time 
should  come,  to  be  laid  to  rest  in  its  quiet  graveyard. 
Fifty  years  later,  when  he  died,  after  a  singularly 
successful  career,  his  wish  was  carried  out,  and  here, 
in  this  quiet  spot  overlooking  the  highway,  you  may 
see  his  handsome  tomb,  begirt  with  iron  railings,  and 
overshadoAved  Avith  ancient  trees. 

The  little  church  of  Chipstead  is  of  Norman  origin, 
and  still  shows  some  interesting  features  of  that 
period,  with  some  interesting  Early  English  addi- 
tions that  have  presented  architectural  puzzles  even 

^  "  Sir  Edward  Banks,  Knight,  of  Sheerness,  Isle  of  Sheppey,  and 
Adeljjlii  Terrace,  Strand,  ]\Iiddlesex,  whose  remains  ai'e  deposited  in  the 
family  vault  in  this  churcliyard.  Blessed  by  Divine  Providence  with 
an  honest  heart,  a  clear  head,  and  an  extraordinary  degree  of  persever- 
ance, he  rose  superior  to  all  difficulties,  and  was  the  founder  of  his  own 
fortune  ;  and  although  of  self-cultivated  talent,  he  in  early  life  became 
contractor  for  public  works,  and  was  actively  and  successfully  engaged 
during  forty  years  in  the  execution  of  some  of  the  most  useful,  extensi^-e, 
and  splendid  works  of  his  time  ;  amongst  which  may  be  mentioned  the 
Waterloo,  Southwark,  London,  and  Staines  Bridges  over  the  Thames, 
the  Na-sal  Works  at  Sheerness  Dockyard,  and  the  new  channels  for  the 
rivers  Ouse,  Xene,  and  Witham  in  Norfolk  and  Lincolnshire.  He  was 
eminently  distinguished  for  the  simplicity  of  his  manners  and  the  bene- 
volence of  his  heart :  respected  for  his  inflexible  integrity  and  his  pure 
and  unaffected  piety  :  in  all  the  relations  of  his  life  he  was  candid, 
diligent,  and  humane  ;  just  in  purpose,  firm  in  execution  ;  his  liberality 
and  indulgence  to  his  numerous  coadjutors  were  alone  equalled  by  his 
generosity  and  charity  displayed  in  the  disposal  of  his  honourably- 
acquired  wealth.  He  de]iarted  this  life  at  Tilgate,  Sussex  ...  on  tlie 
5th  day  of  July  1S55,  in  tlie  sixty-sixth  year  of  his  age." 


42  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

to  the  minds  of  experts.  Many  years  ago,  the  late 
Mr.  G.  E,  Street,  the  architect  of  the  present  Royal 
Courts  of  Justice  in  London,  read  a  paper  upon  this 
building,  advancing  the  theory  that  the  curious 
pedimental  windows  of  the  chancel  and  the  transept 
door  were  not  the  Saxon  work  they  appeared  to  be, 
but  were  the  creation  of  an  architect  of  the  Early 
English  period,  who  had  a  fancy  for  reviving  Saxon 
features,  and  who  was  the  builder  and  designer  of 
a  series  of  Surrey  churches,  among  which  is  included 
that  of  Merstham. 

Within  the  belfry  here  is  a  ring  of  five  bells, 
some  of  them  of  a  respectable  age,  and  three  with 
the  inscription,  with  variations — 

"OUR  HOPE  IS  IN  THE  LORD,  1595." 

R  ^f^  E 

• 

From  here  a  bye-lane  leads  steeply  once  more  into 
the  high-road,  which  winds  along  the  valley,  sloping 
always  toward  the  Weald.  Down  the  long  descent 
into  Merstham  village  tall  and  close  battalions  of 
fir-trees  lend  a  sombre  colouring  to  the  foreground, 
while  "  southward  o'er  Surrey's  pleasant  hills "  the 
evening  sunlight  streams  in  parting  radiance.  On  the 
left  hand  as  we  descend  are  the  eerie-looking  blow- 
holes of  the  Merstham  tunnel,  which  here  succeeds 
the  cutting.  Great  heaps  of  chalk,  by  this  time  partly 
overgrown  with  grass,  also  mark  its  course,  and  in 
the  distance,  crowned  as  many  of  them  are  with 
telegraph  poles,  they  look  by  twilight  curiously  and 
awfully  like  so  many  Calvarys. 


FIRST  DAY.  43 

Mcrstham  is  as  pretty  a  village  as  Surrey  affords, 
and  typically  English.  Kailways  have  not  abated, 
nor  these  turbid  times  altered  in  any  great  measure, 
its  fine  air  of  aristocratic  and  old-time  rusticity.  At 
one  end  of  its  one  clearly-defined  street,  set  at  an  angle 
to  the  high-road,  are  the  great  ornamental  gates  of 
Merstham  Park,  setting  their  stamp  of  landed  aristo- 
cracy upon  the  place.  To  their  riglit  is  a  tiny  gate 
leading  to  the  public  right-of-way  through  the  park, 
which  presently  crosses  over  the  pond  "vvhere  rise 
fitfully  the  springs  of  Merstham  Brook,  a  congener 
of  the  Kentish  "  Nailbournes,"  and  one  of  the  many 
sources  of  the  River  Mole.  Beyond,  above  the  tall 
trees,  is  seen  the  shingled  spire  of  the  church,  an 
Early  English  building  dedicated  to  St.  Catherine, 
not  yet  destroyed,  despite  restorations  and  the  scrap- 
ing which  its  original  lancet  windows  have  under- 
gone in  misguided  efforts  to  endue  them  with  an  air 
of  modernity. 

The  church  is  built  of  that  "  firestone ''  found  so 
freely  in  the  neighbourhood,  a  famed  specialty  which 
entered  largely  into  the  building  and  ornamenta- 
tion of  Henry  the  Seventh's  Chapel  at  Westminster. 
Those  wondrously  intricate  and  involved  carvings 
and  traceries,  whose  decadent  Gothic  delicacy  is  the 
despair  of  present-day  architects  and  stone-carvers, 
were  possible  only  in  this  stone,  which,  when 
quarried,  is  of  exceeding  softness,  but  afterwards, 
on  exposure  to  the  air,  assumes  a  hardness  equalling 
that  of  any  ordinary  building-stone,  and  has,  in 
addition,  the  merit  of  resisting  fire,  whence  its  name. 
Merstham  church  is  even  at  this  day  of  considerable 


44  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

interest.  It  contains  brasses  to  the  Newdegate,  Best, 
and  Elmebrygge  families,  one  of  which  records  in 
black  letter : — 

"  fl?ir  facet  Cops  ^Imfbrurftjr,  armitjcr,  qui  obitt  tiiif  tiic 
jFrbruarij  31°  Qiit  lR°ccrri.viij,  rt  Isabella  iiior  n'lis 
quae  futt  filta  i^tcl}i  Jamos  quontia  IHaion's  ct 
SltJcrman  iiontion:  quae  obift  "oi]"  tiic  Srptcmbn's 
Sl°  Dni  fft°frrc°lxiij°  ft  3nnac  uiar  ti :  quae 
fuit  fili'a  Eoijc's  ^Sropljcte  ©entilman  quae  obiit  •  .  . 
^°  Snf  iH°rccr°.  .  .  .  quoru  animabus 
ppi'ei'ctur  Deus." 

The  date  of  the  second  wife's  death  has  never  been 
inserted,  showing  that  the  brass  was  engraved  and 
set  during  her  lifetime,  as  in  so  many  other  examples 
of  monumental  brasses  throughout  the  country.  The 
figure  of  John  Elmebrygge  is  wanting,  it  having  been 
at  some  time  torn  from  its  matrix,  but  above  his 
figure's  indent  remains  a  label  inscribed  Sancta 
Trinitas,  and  from  the  mouths  of  the  remaining 
figures  issue  labels  inscribed  Unus  Deus — Miserere 
Nobis.  Beneath  is  a  group  of  seven  daughters ;  the 
group  of  four  sons  is  long  since  lost. 

A  transitional  Norman  font  of  grey  Sussex  marble 
remains  at  the  western  end  of  the  church,  and  on 
an  altar-tomb  in  the  southern  chapel  are  the  poor 
remains  of  an  ancient  stone  figure  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  presumably  the  eflftgy  of  a  merchant  civilian, 
as  he  is  represented  wearing  the  gypciere.  It  is 
hacked  out  of  almost  all  significance  at  the  hands 
of  some  iconoclasts ;  their  chisel-marks  are  even  now 
distinct,  and  bear  witness  against  the  Puritan  rage 


pin 


■'^Wmi.mw^~ 


^../ 


^ 


'-.  /If; 


FIRST  DAY.  45 

which  dcfuccd  and  buried  it  face  downwards,  the 
reverse  side  of  the  stone  forming  part  of  the  chapel 
pavement  until  1861,  when  it  was  discovered  during 
the  restoration  of  the  church. 

Before  that  restoration  this  interior  disclosed  a 
Georgian  orgie  of  high  pews,  among  which  the 
"  squire's  parlour "  was  pre-eminent,  with  its  fire- 
place and  well-carpeted  floor,  its  chairs  and  tables :  a 
snuggery  wherein  that  great  man  snored  unobserved 
or  partook  critically  of  his  snuff  during  the  parson's 
discreet  discourse.  But  now  the  parlour  is  gone, 
and  the  squire  must  slumber  with  the  other  sinners. 

These  things  we  noted  during  the  walk  we  took 
while  high  tea  was  being  prepared  at  the  "Feathers." 
Now,  there  is  hardly  any  other  satisfaction  so  hearty 
as  that  experienced  when,  toward  the  close  of  a  day's 
walk,  the  traveller  sits  him  down  to  that  cheering 
meal  tea.  For  one  thing,  the  repast  seems  well  and 
truly  earned  ;  a  pleasing  langour  steals  upon  mind 
and  body  as  the  hour  of  six  approaches,  and  thought 
turns  involuntarily  to  rest  and  refreshment.  I  have 
observed  this  even  in  City  offices,  where  clerks  yawn 
wearily  at  this  hour.  We  had  sped  the  day  with 
exploration,  quip,  and  jest,  and  were  not  aweary 
indeed,  but  here  was  a  village  where  everything 
conspired  to  give  content,  and  foolish,  nay,  criminal 
were  he  who  should  hie  him  forth  with  never  a  halt, 
be  it  never  so  short. 

The  world  is  viewed  charitably  over  the  teacup, 
even  the  rabidcst  of  American  art  critics  could  hardly 
fail  to  be  somewhat  mollified  under  such  circum- 
stances as  these,  though,  certainly,  his  is  an  extreme 


46  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

case.  They  have  not  evil  tongues  w^ho  can  ply  their 
evening  knives  and  forks  to  such  good  purpose  as 
the  sharp-set  pedestrian,  to  whom,  an  he  be  happily 
placed  in  his  hostelry,  everything  is  rosy-hued  and 
the  world  young  again. 

At  length,  that  important  office  of  tea  despatched, 
'twas  time  to  depart,  but  (we  argued)  what  need  was 
there  to  urge  our  course  farther  this  eve  ?  Why 
tempt  Fortune  by  pursuing  the  road  to  Eedhill,  than 
whence  we  could  not  hope  farther  to  reach  this 
night?  Knew  we  not  already  by  common  report 
what  manner  of  town  that  town  might  be — a  creation 
of  the  present  age,  called  into  being  by  the  railway ; 
a  modern  model  town,  rhythmic,  local  boarded  to  the 
extreme ;  an  orgie  in  the  newest  and  most  vivid  of 
red  brick — an  impossible  town,  indeed,  from  the 
point  of  view  of  him  who  seeketh  after  the  for- 
tuitously picturesque. 

So  we  stayed  the  night  at  Merstham,  and  an  aim- 
less walk,  begun  in  the  gathering  twilight,  was  a 
fitting  close  to  an  irresponsible  day. 

Such  experiences  as  these  evening  walks  are  of 
the  sweetest ;  conversation  which  in  daylight  would 
perhaps  become  absolute  chatter  seems  in  the  vague- 
ness of  evening  around  you  of  the  most  luminous 
quality  (it  appears  so,  harking  back  to  it).  Perhaps 
though,  if  it  were  reported  verbatim,  'twould  be  of 
the  sorriest.  It  seems,  indeed,  almost  desecration  to 
attempt  to  analyse  those  optimist  utterances,  for 
optimist  under  such  circumstances  they  always  are  ; 
at  such  times  to  be  a  weeping  philosopher  were 
surely  impossible.     Analysis  here  would  be  a  dese- 


y^  J.   "^  -^  f  \  \ 


r 


BYK-KOAI),    MI:K.STIIAM. 


FIRST  DAY.  47 

cration  worse  than  that  of  wliich  we  were  guilty, 
that  of  burdening  the  scented  air  of  the  spring  even- 
ing with  tobacco,  though  that  was  bad  enough. 

But  as  darkness  came  on  apace,  it  was  the  crown- 
ing touch  of  witchery  to  note  the  ruddy  glow  of  one's 
neighbour's  tobacco  as,  side  by  side,  we  paced  the 
bye-lanes.  The  bat  had  now  left  his  church-tower 
and  the  owl  his  clinging  ivy,  and  they  flitted  over- 
liead  or  haunted  the  trees  with  gruesome  cries ;  the 
crake,  too,  commenced  his  harsh  creaking,  while 
blundering  moths  flew  full  tilt  into  the  wayfarer's 
face,  and  from  ditches  and  long  grasses  came  the 
chirping  of  the  grasshopper. 

Now  came  from  the  ale-house  open  door  a  bar 
of  light  across  the  path.  From  within  one  heard 
the  rustic  discourse  in  accents  of  beer  on  matters 
political,  following  that  unwritten  law  by  whose 
decree  he  who  knows  little  says  much.  You  shall 
hear  the  yokel  at  these  times  denounce  the  Govern- 
ment with  all  his  florid  vocabulary  of  invective.  'Tis 
no  matter,  his  wife  shall  presently  haul  him  home, 
and  his  voice  will  be  heard  no  more  this  night ;  for 
your  disputatious  rustic  is  in  so  far  like  "  Gelert  the 
faithful  hound,"  that  though  a  lion  abroad,  he  is  "  a 
lamb  at  home."      Thus  Hodge. 

Cottage  windows,  through  diamond  panes,  lent 
their  glimmer  to  intensify  the  gathered  night  as  we 
made  to  return.  Coming  at  length  into  the  high- 
road to  seek  the  village  for  the  night,  we  encountered 
quite  an  array  of  cyclists  speeding  with  flying  wheels 
towards  Brighton  at  what  pace  they  might.  One 
moment  a  blaze  of  lamps  rounding  the  corner,  the 


48  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

next  a  blank  darkness  and  a  confused  babel  of 
ringing  bells  and  hooting  pneumatic  alarms  (cyclorns 
they  call  them)  as  they  swept  past  us  down  the  road 
upon  something  in  their  way.  They  would  reach  the 
coast  to-night,  no  doubt,  while  we — we  chuckled  as 
having  the  better  way. 

And  so  (as  Pepys  might  have  said)  to  our  inn  and 
to  bed  well  pleased. 


SECOND  DA  V. 

I  LOOK  back  upon  this  as  a  day  of  great  good-humour, 
a  day  when  the  sun  shone  gaily  and  all  nature 
seemed  to  smile  in  response  ;  a  day,  too,  when  all 
went  well  with  us,  from  that  excellently  appreciated 
breakfast  at  Merstham  to  the  equally  enjoyable  even- 
ing repast  at  Crawley ;  an  ideal  spring  day,  when  all 
we  met  or  passed  were  pleasant  and  happy  seeming, 
except  indeed  an  ungodly  tramp,  who  swore  roundly 
at  us  for  that  we  would  give  him  nothing — a  morally 
ill-conditioned  fellow,  but  physically  well-cared  for  : 
of  such  are  all  his  tribe.  And  yet  this  lazy,  hulk- 
ing, well-fed  rascal  was  not  without  a  touch  of  the 
picturesque — ragged  picturesqueness  of  a  theatrical 
exaggeration.  It  was  a  marvel  to  see  how  his 
tattered  duds  held  together  as  he  walked,  so  looped 
and  windowed  were  they  with  raggedness.  It  seemed 
indeed  almost  as  if  he  had  made  to  himself  a  cover- 
ing of  dried  leaves  pinned  together,  so  many  were 
his  fragments  and  without  so  much  as  a  suspicion  of 
cut  or  fit.  Buttons  had  fled  him  long  since  ;  string 
and  wire  romantically  replaced  them  where  fastenings 
became  imperative  ;  and  where  his  many  windows 
afforded  glimpses  of  his  skin,  inconceivable  griminess 
was  disclosed,  so  that  one  instinctively  stood  to  wind- 
ward of  him.     Yet  all  this  must  have  been  but  an 

49  J) 


50  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

elaborately  contrived  get-up  to  induce  pity  in  all  who 
should  behold  him  ;  for  it  was  plain  to  see  that  this 
was  a  lusty,  able-bodied,  well-fed  vagabond,  with 
round  face  and  well-covered  ribs,  one  of  the  sort 
that  will  not  work  while  they  can  so  readily  beg  a 
living. 

You  shall  happen  upon  many  of  his  order  along 
these  pleasant  roads  in  spring,  summer,  and  autumn  ; 
whole  families  of  them,  father,  mother,  and  children. 
Not  hard-working  hop-pickers  these,  not  gipsies  even, 
but  whining,  hypocritical  wanderers,  incorrigibly 
nomadic,  with  the  morals  of  a  mudlark  and  language 
equalling  only  the  awful  profanity  of  an  Australian 
sheep-shearer  from  the  "back  blocks." 

Such  a  family  was  that  we  passed  later  in  the  day 
by  Earlswood  Common.  They  were  cooking  their 
mid-day  meal  near  to  the  roadside  by  the  aid  of  a 
fire  of  dried  twigs.  The  man,  head  of  the  family,  I 
suppose,  was  stretched  full  length  upon  his  stomach, 
chewing  the  blades  of  grass  he  had  plucked,  while 
the  woman  tended  the  fire  and  the  children  gathered 
yet  more  twigs.  As  we  approached,  this  bullet- 
headed,  evil-looking  creature  raised  himself  slightly, 
irresistibly  recalling  the  action  of  some  reptile,  and 
called  to  us,  with  dull  wit,  "  Hi !  Guv' nor,  wait  for 
us  ;  we're  going  your  way."  The  children,  too,  came 
pell-mell  after  us,  crying,  "  Gie  me  a  penny,  sir,  gie 
me  a  'a'p'nny,"  and  would  not  be  denied ;  so,  be- 
cause of  their  importunity,  we  pitched  them  some 
coppers  and  were  left  in  peace. 

But,  ere  these  folks  were  encountered,  we  had  left 
the   lime-burners   and  apple-orchards   of   Merstham 


m\..-' 


SECOND  DAY.  51 

behind,  and  had  walked  that  featureless  two  miles 
or  so  into  Redhill,  whose  uninteresting  streets  we 
paced  hot-foot,  eager  to  have  done  with  its  sug- 
gestions of  town,  its  pavings,  asphalte  or  stone- 
flagged,  and  its  unpicturesque  but  withal  unkempt 
High  Street  or  London  Road,  by  whatsoever  name 
they  call  that  part  of  the  town  that  borders  the 
Brighton  Road. 

But  atop  of  that  steep  ascent  lying  before  all  who 
fare  southward,  you  have  a  not  unpleasing  view  over 
the  town.  True,  there  is  nothing  more  romantic 
down  there  in  that  welter  of  junctions,  reformatories, 
and  asylums  than  the  huge  building  of  St.  Anne's 
Society  ;  but  distance  lends  a  something  that  (though 
enchantment  here  were  an  impossible  word)  extenu- 
ates the  view,  backed  as  it  is  by  the  swelling  bosom 
of  the  North  Downs,  parti-coloured  in  fields  of  dif- 
ferent growths. 

And  so,  with  but  little  delay,  we  turned  an  un- 
reluctant  heel  upon  this  place,  which  commands  no 
interest,  saving  only  that  little  which  may  lie  in  the 
fact  that  here  is  found  fuller's  earth,  a  distinction 
shared  only  by  one  other  neighbourhood  in  this 
land. 

The  road,  here  narrowed  for  some  distance  and 
enclosed  on  either  side  by  high  brick  walls,  leads 
presently  upon  Redhill  and  Earlswood  Commons, 
where  movement  is  unrestrained  and  free  as  air,  and 
the  vision  is  bounded  only  by  Leith  Hill  in  one 
direction,  and  the  blue  haze  of  distance  in  another. 
Earlswood  Common  is  a  welcome  change  after  Red- 
hill.     It  gives  sensations  of  elbow-room,  of  freedom 


52  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

and  vastness,  which  are  not  justified  by  a  reference 
to  its  acreage,  and  this  by  reason  of  its  broken, 
irregular  surface,  grey-green,  picturesquely  uncared- 
for,  and  still  with  a  certain  wildness  ;  the  little  pools 
which  fill  many  of  its  hollows  reflecting,  as  so  many 
mirrors,  both  sunshine  and  passing  clouds. 

This  had  surely  been  in  other  times  the  ideal  spot 
for  an  encounter  with  a  knight  of  the  road.  What 
pity  it  is  that  these  days  of  the  cyclist  were  not 
synchronised  with  those  of  the  highwayman  !  Ima- 
gine with  what  delightful  "creeps"  the  nocturnal 
wheelman  would  have  wheeled  himself  out  of  an  in- 
cipient Redhill  on  to  the  lonely  Common,  larger, 
wilder,  and  lonelier  than  now,  and  all  haggard  under 
the  occasional  rays  of  a  fitful  moonlight.  With  what 
suspense  and  misgiving  hewould  have  heard  thetinkle 
of  a  horse's  gallop  on  the  frosty  road  somewhere  in  his 
rear !  Hoiv  he  would  have  pedalled  as  the  horseman 
drew  nearer  and  yet  more  near,  and  with  what  a 
sinking  of  his  heart  into  his  shoes  he  would  have 
regarded  such  an  apparition  as  that  you  shall  see 
depicted  on  the  opposite  page,  crape-masked  and 
armed  with  horse-pistol  of  generous  calibre  !  Then, 
being  compelled  by  the  moral  suasion  of  that  "barker  " 
to  dismount,  one  can  very  vividly  imagine  the  Cut- 
throat Dick  or  Sixteen-string  Jack  of  this  involuntary 
encounter  demanding  the  unhappy  wheelman's  valu- 
ables, and  cursing  him  for  that  he  wore,  instead  of  a 
gold  chronometer  jewelled  in  Lord  knows  how  many 
holes,  only  the  humble  inexpensive  Waterbury. 

And  then,  the  better  to  escape  pursuit,  the  knight 
of  industry,  being  keen-witted,  would  doubtless  de- 


SECOND  DAY.  53 

mand  his  pedals  of  that  cyclist,  who,  rednccd  thus  to 
walking  both  himself  and  his  machine,  would  return 
a  sadder  and  a  poorer,  if  not  a  wiser  wight  to  that 
place  whence  he  came. 

One  can  imagine  how  splendid  an  opportunity 
would  thus  be  afforded  the  Munchausens  of  the 
pastime  (of  cycling,  not  of  highway  robbery)  of  exer- 
cising their  powers,  now  so  poorly  used  in  competitive 
lying  on  feats  of  pace.  They  might  begin  in  the  old 
familiar  style  of  the  Christmas  numbers  we  know  so 
well,  and  work  up  the  interest  by  picturesque  exag- 
gerations of  their  prowess,  and But  who  am  I 

that  I  should  presume  to  coach  the  mendacious 
wheelman  in  his  very  own  subject? 

But  now-a-days  the  wheelman  has  nothing  to  fear, 
unless  it  be  the  puncturing  of  a  tyre,  or  the  happen- 
ing upon  the  fortuitous  brick  upon  the  highway. 
He  may  wheel  along  this  or  any  other  public  road, 
and  none  shall  say  him  nay.  This  stretch  across 
Earlswood  Common  is  very  much  after  his  heart ;  it 
has  those  "  switchback  "  properties  that  are  dear  to 
the  heart  of  the  tourist  on  wheels,  inasmuch  as  he  is 
called  upon  for  little  or  no  exertion.  And  so,  this 
being  thus,  he  would,  in  dashing  past  that  old  inn 
which  lies  at  the  Common's  farthest  southern  limit, 
have  missed  that  talk  which  ourselves  had  with  as 
aged  a  specimen  of  the  Sussex  peasant  as  it  had  ever 
been  our  fortune  to  light  upon  out  o'  doors. 

He  was  drinking  from  a  tankard  of  the  pea-soup 
which  they  call  ale  in  these  parts,  sitting  the  while 
upon  a  bench  whose  like  is  usually  found  outside  old 
country  inns.     Iluddy  of  face,  with  cloan-shavon  lips 


54  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

and  chin,  his  grizzled  beard  kept  rigidly  upon  his 
wrinkled  dewlap,  his  hands  gnarled  and  twisted  with 
toil  and  rheumatism,  he  sat  there  in  smock-frock  and 
gaiters,  as  typical  a  countryman  as  ever  on  London 
stage  brought  the  scent  of  the  hay  across  the  foot- 
lights. That  smock  of  his,  the  "  round  frock "  of 
Sussex  parlance,  was  worked  about  the  yoke  of  it, 
fore  and  aft,  with  many  and  curious  devices,  whose 
patterns,  though  he,  and  she  who  worked  them,  knew 
it  not,  derived  from  centuries  of  tradition  and  precept, 
had  been  handed  down  from  Saxon  times,  ay,  and 
before  them,  to  the  present  day,  when,  their  signifi- 
cance lost,  they  excite  merely  a  mild  wonder  at  their 
oddity  and  complication. 

He  was,  it  seemed,  a  "  hedger  and  ditcher,"  and 
his  leathern  gauntlets  and  billhook  lay  beside  him 
on  the  ale-house  bench. 

"  I've  worked  at  this  sort  o'  thing,"  said  he,  in 
conversation  with  us,  "  for  the  last  twenty  year. 
Hard  work  ?  yes,  onaccountable  hard,  and  small  pay 
for't  too.  Two  and  twopence  a  day  I  gets,  an'  works 
from  seven  o'  marnings  to  half-past  five  in  the 
afternoon  for  that.  You'll  be  gettin'  more  than 
two  and  twopence  a  day  when  you're  at  work,  I 
reckon." 

One  of  us  modestly  admitted  the  truth  of  that 
surmise,  but  submitted  that  living  and  housing  in 
London  being  far  and  away  more  costly  than  country 
life,  town  and  country  earnings,  comparatively  and 
without  personal  experience,  were  not  so  widely 
different  as  might  be  imagined.  London,  too,  we 
urged,  both  of  us,  was  not  the  ideal  residence  ;   the 


SECOND  DAY. 


55 


country  was  preferable.  The  old  man  agreed  in  this 
last  proposition,  for  he  had  been  to  tlie  metropolis,  and 
"  a  dirty  place  it  was,  snre-ly  ;  "  also  he  had  been  atop 
of  the  Monument,  to  the  Tower,  and  to  Tussaud's,  to 
which  places  we,  being  merely  Londoners  from  our 


FLOODS  ON  THE  BRIGIITOX  ROAD  AT  SALFORD  MILL. 

birth  up,  had  never  been.  Thus  the  country  cousin 
in  our  gates  is  more  learned  in  the  stock  sights  of 
town  than  townsfolk  themselves. 

From  here  the  road  slopes  gently  to  tlie  Weald, 
past  Petridge  Wood  and  Salford,  where  a  tributary 
of  the  Mole  crosses  it  beneath  a  little  bridge,  and. 


ss 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


constrained  to  service,  turns  the  water-wheel  of  a 
new  and  an  extremely  ugly  mill.  It  is  nearly  always 
a  puny  rivulet ;  but  let  there  be  a  continuous  month 
or  three  weeks  of  rain,  or  a  sudden  melting  of  winter 
snows,  and  the  Mole  shall  show  you  how  powerful 
for  evil  it  may  become. 

To  take  the  latest  instance,  the  floods  of  October 
1S91.  There  had  been  weeks  of  more  or  less  heavy 
rains  following  upon  one  of  the  wettest  summers 
experienced  of  late  years,  and  the  earth  had  arrived 
at  that  soaked  condition  under  which  it  had  lost  for 
the  time  its  absorbent  power.  Eain  continued  falling, 
and  the  Mole,  which  runs  in  countless  little  arteries 
throughout  the  level  lands,  rose  in  power  and  flooded 
the  country-side,  isolating  farm-houses  and  flooding 
high-roads  and  bye-lanes  alike.  Here,  at  Salford, 
and  again  at  Horley,  the  highway  became  a  rush- 
ing torrent,  along  whose   nut-brown   October  flood 

tumbled  the  remainingapples 

from  drowned  orchards,  with 

trees  and  bushes  and  hurdles. 

The  postman  on  his  rounds 

had  to  wade   it,  as  had  all 

those  whose  business  called 

them  this  way  on  foot.     The 

meadows,  too,  to  the  south 

of  Horley  and   at   Gatwick 

^''  were  flooded,  and  the  water, 

WADING.  stretchingfor  great  distances, 

flooded  Horley  churchyard  itself. 

This  God's  acre  boasts  two  fine  yews,  notable 
even    in    a    county    whose    soil    seems    particularly 


4. ' 


^;t-\v5.4^^V| 


SECOND  DAY.  57 

favourable  to  the  growth  of  this  tree.  Tlie  churcli 
itself,  with  its  shingled  spire  and  white  walls,  com- 
poses finely  w^ith  the  noble  trees  surrounding,  but 
has  not  much  to  show  beyond  a  mail-clad  effigy  of 
the  fourteenth  century  and  two  brasses  of  but  mild 
attractions  to  the  archa)ologist. 

Of  greatest  interest  is  the  churchwardens'  account 
book,  dating  from  the  sixteenth  century,  but  not  to 
be  seen  of  the  curious  here.  After  many  wanderings 
in  the  land,  it  was  at  length  purchased  at  a  second- 
hand bookseller's  and  presented  to  the  British 
Museum,  in  which  mausoleum  of  literature,  in  the 
department  of  manuscripts,  it  is  now  to  be  found. 
It  contains  a  curious  item,  which  shows  that  even 
in  the  rigid  times  that  produced  the  great  Puritan 
upheaval  congregations  were  not  unapt  for  irrever- 
ence. Thus  in  1632  "  John  Ansty  is  chosen  by  the 
consent  of  y*^  minister  &  parishioners  to  see  y*  y® 
younge  men  &  boyes  behaue  themselves  decently 
in  y*^  churcli  in  time  of  diuine  service  and  sermon, 
&  he  is  to  haue  for  his  paines  ij^'  " 

The  village  of  liorley  has  only  one  building  of 
any  picturesqueness,  and  that  is  one  so  well  known 
to  all  them  that  travel  this  road  that  this  drawing  of 
it  must  come  even  as  the  picture  of  an  old  familiar 
friend.  The  "  Chequers  "  is  an  inn  that  commands 
attention  as  much  by  its  position  as  by  its  appear- 
ance, standing  as  it  does  at  the  centre  of  Ilorley, 
where  several  roads  meet.  A  long  rambling  building, 
its  several  parts  added  as  expediency  dictated,  it 
is  of  uncertain  date,  and  of  a  certain  uncalculated 
irregularity  that  is  only  the  outcome  of  needs  sup- 


58  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

plied  as  they  arose,  an  irregularity  that  charms  by 
its  artless  air  where  a  premeditated  quaintness  would 
fail  to  please. 

The  Brighton  Parcel  Mail,  which  goes  now-a-days 
by  road,  changes  here  every  night.  The  down  van, 
running  from  the  London  Bridge  office,  and  leaving 
there  at  9.45  p.m.,  meets  the  up  mail  from  Brighton 
at  12.55  ;  vans  are  exchanged,  the  Brighton  van  and 
London  driver  go  back  to  London,  the  London  van 
and  Brighton  driver  back  again  to  the  Brighton 
office,  which  is  reached  at  4.45  a.m.  To  view  this 
strange  practical  revival  of  old-time  mail-carrying  is 
to  almost  fancy  one's  self  back  in  the  early  years  of 
this  dying  century.  The  lateness  of  the  hour,  the 
changing  of  the  horses,  the  appearance  of  the  great 
vans,  each  with  its  three  powerful  lamps  in  front 
and  its  two  red  lights  behind  ;  all  these  things  are 
impressive  indeed.  And  not  less  remarkable  facts 
are  the  regularity  with  which  the  service  is  main- 
tained and  the  swiftness  which  characterises  the 
transport  of  the  heavy  loads  which  compose  the 
parcel  mail  for  Brighton  or  London  ;  for  this  is  not 
by  any  means  a  performance  to  be  set  on  all  fours 
with  the  doings  of  the  light  passenger  drags  that  in 
the  summer  cover  these  fifty-two  miles  in  a  matter 
of  six  hours.  To  exceed  their  time  by  only  an  hour 
is  an  achievement  of  note  when  the  construction  and 
weight  of  the  vans  and  their  heavy  loads  are  taken 
into  consideration. 

There  has  very  recently  been  opened  just  below 
Horley,  at  Gatwick  Park,  a  new  racecourse  to  keep 
alive  the  name  and  fame  of  this  classic  road  as  a 


<  c 

H   5 


c   ^ 


SECOND  DAY. 


59 


sporting  highway,  Of  such  import  is  it  that  a  new 
station  (Gatwick)  has  been  built  on  the  Brighton 
Railway  to  serve  the  needs  of  the  sporting  com- 
munity. Here  foregather  sportsmen  of  every  de- 
scription ;  bookmakers  and  an  eager  crowd  throng 
the  roads  when  important  events  are  run. 


This,  the  more  important  of  all  the  roads  to 
Brighton,  has  unfortunately  too  distinct  an  air  of 
the  modern  suburb  to  altogether  please  men  who 
find  aught  of  pleasure  in  history  and  old  associa- 
tions. Villadom  has  pitched  its  tents  at  too  frequent 
intervals  along  the  highway  for  any  great  survival  of 


6o  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD, 

romance.  Streathara,  Croydon,  Redhill,  and  Horley 
beckon  each  to  each,  and  shall  embrace  ere  long, 
to  the  approximate  extinction  of  rurality  along  this 
entire  stretch  of  country  down  to  the  sea-shore. 
Every  village  that  stands  directly  in  the  path  has  its 
belt  of  bungalows,  its  arteries  of  asphalte. 

But  turn  for  any  distance  right  or  left,  and  the  fair 
country-side,  innocent  of  building  estates,  smiles  fresh 
and  free,  and  hardly  in  Cornwall  itself  shall  you  find 
such  solitudes  as  may  successfully  be  sought  in  these 
two  home  counties. 

Horley  is  a  typical  example  of  modern  growth. 
It  will  doubtless  be,  ere  many  years  have  passed,  a 
town,  with  town-hall  and  other  signs  of  size,  so  ener- 
getic is  the  builder  in  these  gates.  Yet  to  turn 
aside  to  the  neighbouring  villages  of  Charlwood 
and  Newdigate  is  to  experience  a  plunge  from  the 
restless  hurry  of  to-day  into  the  restfulness  of  by- 
gone centuries,  when  Brighthelmstone  was  a  fishing 
village  unknown  beyond  its  neighbours,  and  when, 
the  watering-place  being  as  yet  undreamt  of,  there 
were  no  highways  worthy  the  name  leading  toward 
the  coast.  In  what,  for  some  inscrutable  reason,  are 
called  the  Statutes  at  Large  may  be  seen  titles  of 
Acts  of  Parliament  authorising  the  making  of  roads 
in  these  parts.  Among  the  earliest  of  them  is  that 
of  1770,  entitled  "An  Act  for  repairing  and  widen- 
ing the  road  leading  from  Brighthelmstone  to  the 
County  Oak  on  Lovell  Heath,  in  the  county  of 
Sussex."  "Lovell  Heath"  we  recognise  in  these 
days  as  the  modern  hamlet  of  Lowfield  Heath.  The 
Heath,   in   a   strict  sense,   is  to   seek ;  it  has  been 


SECONJ)  DAY.  6 1 

improved  away  utterly  and  without  remorse.  The 
road  licre,  and  indeed  all  that  portion  lying  between 
Horley  and  the  approach  to  Crawley,  is  level  and 
particularly  smooth;  it  is  a  little  paradise  for  cyclists, 
who  frequent  this  highway  in  great  numbers  on  Satur- 
days and  Sundays  of  the  spring  and  summer  months; 
but,  all  the  same,  it  is  extremely  uninteresting. 

Turn  we  then  to  the  remoteness  of  Charlwood 
and  Ifield. 

Few  indeed  are  they  wdio  find  themselves  in 
these  lovely  spots.  Hundreds,  nay,  thousands,  are 
continually  passing  w-ithin  almost  hail  of  their  slum- 
berous sites,  and  have  been  passing  for  hundreds  of 
years,  yet  they  and  their  inhabitants  doze  on,  and 
ever  and  again  some  cyclist  or  pedestrian  blunders 
upon  them  by  a  fortunate  accident ;  as,  one  may 
say,  some  unconscious  Livingstone  or  Speke  dis- 
covering an  unknown  Happy  Valley,  and  disturb- 
ing with  a  little  ripple  of  change  their  uneventful 
calm. 

We  broke  in  upon  their  unknown  beauties  in  this 
wise.  We  knew  well  the  uninteresting  flatness  of 
three  miles  or  so  between  Povey  Cross  and  Crawley, 
and  proposed  to  take  that  bye-road  that  leads  by 
devious  turns  along  the  valley  of  the  Mole,  and 
promises  on  the  map  a  pleasing  journey.  And 
that  promise  is  not,  like  too  many  on  the  sinful 
Ordnance,  unsatisfied ;  for  the  way  is  a  way  of 
delightful  greenery,  and  Charlwood,  when  reached, 
a  revelation. 

A  happier  picture  than  that  of  Charlwood  Cliurch, 
seen  from  the  village  street   through   a   framing   of 


62 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


two  severely-cropped  elms  forming  an  archway  across 
the  road,  can  rarely  be  seen  ui  these  home  counties. 
The  church  is  an  ancient  building  of  the  eleventh 
century,  with  later  insertions  of  windows  when  the 
Norman  gloom  of  its  interior  assorted  less  admirably 
with  a  more  enlightened  time.  In  plan  cruciform, 
with  central  tower  and  double  nave,  it  is  of  an 
unusual  type  of  village  church,  and  presents  many 


features  of  interest  to  the  archaeologist,  whose  atten- 
tion will  immediately  be  arrested  by  the  fragments 
of  an  immense  and  hideous  fresco  seen  on  the  south 
wall.  A  late  brass,  now  mural,  in  the  chancel, 
dated  1553,  is  for  Nicholas  Sander  and  Alys  his 
wife.  These  Sanders,  or,  as  they  spelled  their  name 
variously,  Saunder,  held  for  many  years  the  manor 


SECOND  DAY. 


63 


of  Charlwood,  and  at  one  time  that  also  of  Purlcy. 
Sir  Thomas  Saunder,  who  was  Remembrancer  of  the 
Exchequer  in  Queen  Ehzabeth's  time,  bequeathed 
his  estates  to  his  son  Edmund,  who  sold  the  re- 
version of  Purley  in  1580.  The  church  is  built 
of  Charlwood  stone,  a  stone  quarried  from  the 
earliest  times  in  this  parish,  but  now  rarely  used. 
It  is  of  two  varieties,  one  of  a  yellowish-grey  colour, 
the  other,  fossiliferous  in  character,  of  a  light  bluish 


''%A" 


tint,  and  capable  of  taking  a  high  polish,  like  that 
of  Purbeck  marble,  which  it  greatly  resembles. 

One  of  the  loveliest  spots  in  SuiTey  is  the  tiny 
village  of  Newdigate,  on  a  secluded  winding  road 
that  leads  from  here  past  a  picturesque  and  diminu- 
tive inn  called  the  "  Surrey  Oaks,"  fronted  with  aged 
trees.  It  is  probably  the  loneliest  place  of  any  in  the 
county,  and  is  worth  visiting,  if  only  for  a  peep  into 


64  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

the  curious  timber  belfry  of  its  little  church,  which 
contains  a  hoary  chest,  contrived  out  of  a  solid 
block  of  oak,  and  fastened  with  three  ancient  pad- 
locks. 

But  probably  veiy  few  will  go  so  far  abroad  :  hie 
we  then  along  the  road  to  Ifield.  Tramping  along 
the  road  here,  one  presently  becomes  aware  of  a  row 
of  large  flat  blocks  of  stone,  continued  from  the 
village  paving  along  the  grassy  margins  of  the 
ditches,  and  forming  a  kind  of  primitive  pavement 
in  themselves.  They  were  placed  here  long  ago, 
in  the  days  when  the  Wealden  clay  asserted  itself 
much  more  emphatically  than  it  does  now,  and 
were  supposed  to  form  a  means  of  pedestrian  pro- 
gression wanting  in  the  miry  tracks  which  then 
gained  for  Sussex  and  Surrey  a  most  unenviable 
notoriety. 

Beside  those  travellers'  tales  of  miry  ways,  there  is 
preserved  for  our  information  the  old  county  metrical 
saying— 

"  Essex  full  of  good  housewyfes, 
Middlesex  full  of  stryves, 
Xentshire  hoot  as  lire, 
Sowseks  full  of  dirt  and  mire." 

And  here  we  came  across  the  border-line  into  this 
last  county. 

Now  we  came  within  sight  of  Ifield  Church  spire, 
after  passing  through  the  park,  in  whose  woody 
drives  the  oak  and  holly  most  do  grow.  It  has  been 
remarked  of  this  part  of  the  Weald,  that  its  soil  is 
particularly  favourable  to  the  growth  of  the  oak. 
Cobbett  indeed  says,  "  It  is  a  county  where,  strictly 


SECOND  DAY. 


65 


speaking,   only  three  things  will  grow  well — grass, 
wheat,  and  oak  trees." 

It  had  really  long  been  a  belief  that  Sussex  alone 
could  furnish  forth  sufficient  oak  to  build  all  the 
royal   navies'  of  Europe,  and  this,   notwithstanding 


__1 


^  C°rr\er 


the  ravages   among  the   forests  of  forges   and   fur- 
naces. 

In  the  church  at  Ifield,  whose  somewhat  unpre- 

E 


66  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

possessing  exterior  gives  no  hint  of  its  in^Ya^d  beauty, 
is  an  oaken  screen  which  should  prove  of  great 
attraction  to  those  who  take  an  interest  in  old  land- 
marks, for  it  is  made  from  the  wood  of  an  old  oak 
tree  cut  down  in  the  "forties,"  which  had  stood  for 
centuries  on  the  Brighton  Eoad  at  Lowfield  Heath, 
where  the  boundary  lines  of  Surrey  and  Sussex  meet. 
The  tree  was  known  far  and  wide  as  "  County  Oak." 
For  the  rest,  the  church  is  interesting  enough  by 
reason  of  its  architecture  to  warrant  some  lingering 
here,  but  it  is,  beside  this  legitimate  attraction,  also 
very  much  of  a  museum  of  sepulchral  curiosities. 
A  brass  for  two  brothers,  with  a  curious  metrical  in- 
scription, lurks  in  the  gloom  of  the  south  aisle  on 
the  wall,  and  sundry  grim  and  ghastly  relics  in  the 
shape  of  engraved  coffin-plates,  grubbed  up  by 
ghoulish  antiquarians  from  the  vaults  below,  form 
a 'perpetual  memento  mori  from  darksome  masonry. 
On  either  side  the  nave,  by  the  chancel,  beneath 
the  graceful  arches  of  the  nave  arcade,  are  the  re- 
cumbent effigies  of  Sir  John  de  Ifield  and  his  lady. 
The  knight  died  in  131  7.  He  is  represented  as  an 
armed  Crusader,  cross-legged,  a  position,  to  quote 
"Thomas  Ingoldsby,"  "so  prized  by  Templars  in 
ancient  and  tailors  in  modern  days."  But  so  dark  is 
the  church  that  details  can  only  with  difficulty  be 
examined,  and  to  emerge  from  the  murk  of  this  in- 
terior is  to  blink  again  in  the  light  of  day,  however 
dull  that  day  may  be. 

From  Ifield  Church,  a  long  and  exceeding  straight 
road  leads  in  one  mile  to  Ifield  Hammer  Pond. 
Here  is  one  of  the  many  sources  of  the  little  river 


V      SECOND  DAY. 


67 


Mole,  whose  trickling  tributaries  spread  over  all  the 
neighbouring  valley.  The  old  coni-mill  standing 
beside  the  hatch  bears  on  its  brick  substructure  the 
date  1683,  but  the  white-painted,  boarded  mill  itself 
is  evidently  of  much  later  date.     But  before  a  mill 


IFIELD   5IILL    POND. 


stood  here  at  all  this  was  the  site  of  one  of  the 
most  important  ironworks  in  Sussex,  when  Sussex 
iron  paid  for  tlie  smelting.  It  will  come  as  a 
surprise     to    many    who    know    but    little    of    the 


68  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

county  history  to  learn  that  this  was  for  a  con- 
siderable period  a  veritable  Black  Country — but  so 
it  was. 

Ironstone  had  been  known  to  exist  here  even  in 
the  days  of  the  Roman  occupation,  when  Anderida, 
as  this  great  district,  extending  from  the  sea  to  Lon- 
don, was  called,  was  one  vast  forest.  Heaps  of  slag 
and  cinders  have  been  found  in  which  have  been 
discovered  Roman  coins  and  implements  of  contem- 
porary date,  proving  that  iron  was  smelted  here  to 
some  extent  even  then.  But  it  was  not  until  the 
latter  part  of  the  Tudor  period  that  the  industry 
attained  its  greatest  height.  Then,  according  to 
Camden,  "  the  Weald  of  Sussex  was  full  of  iron- 
mines,  and  the  beating  of  hammers  upon  the  iron 
filled  the  neighbourhood  round  about  with  continual 
noise."  The  ironstone  was  smelted  with  charcoal 
made  from  the  forest  trees  that  then  covered  the 
land,  and  it  was  not  until  the  first  year  or  two  of  the 
present  century  that  the  industry  finally  died  out. 
The  last  remaining  ironworks  in  Sussex  were  situated 
at  Ashburnham  and  ceased  working  about  1820, 
owing  to  the  inability  of  ironmasters  to  compete 
with  the  coal-smelted  ore  of  South  Wales. 

By  that  time  the  great  forest  of  Anderida  had 
almost  entirely  disappeared,  which  is  not  at  all  a 
wonderful  thing  to  consider  when  we  learn  that  one 
ironworks  alone  consumed  200,000  cords  of  wood 
annually.  Even  in  Drayton's  time  the  woods  were 
already  very  greatly  despoiled,  and  in  his  "  Poly- 
olbion  "  he  thus  bewails  their  fate  in  that  peculiar 
convention  of  Nymphs  and  Dryads  which  obtained 


SECOND  DAY.  69 

SO   greatly  in  his  day,  and  whose  vogue  he  did   so 
much  to  work  to  death  : — 

"  These  forests,  as  I  say,  the  daughters  of  the  "Weald 
(That  in  their  heavy  hreasts  had  long  their  griefs  coiicealiMl), 
Foreseeing  their  decay  each  hour  so  fast  come  on, 
Under  the  axe's  stroke,  fetched  many  a  grievous  groan, 
When  as  the  anvil's  weight,  and  hammer's  dreadful  sound, 
Even  rent  the  hollow  woods  and  shook  the  queachy  ground ; 
So  that  the  trembling  Nymphs,  oppress'd  through  ghastly  fear, 
Ran  madding  to  the  Downs  with  loose  dishevell'd  hair. 
The  Sylvans  that  about  the  neighbouring  woods  did  dwell, 
Both  in  the  turfy  frith  and  in  the  mossy  fell, 
Forsook  their  gloomy  bowers,  and  wandered  far  abroad, 
Expelled  their  quiet  seats,  and  place  of  their  abode. 
When  labouring  carts  they  saw  to  hold  their  daily  trade. 
Where  they  in  summer  wont  to  sport  them  in  the  shade. 
Could  we,  say  they,  suppose  that  any  would  us  cherish. 
Which  suffer  (every  day)  the  holiest  things  to  perish  ? 
Or  to  our  daily  want  to  minister  supi:ly  1 
These  Iron  Times  breed  none  that  mind  posterity. 
'Tis  but  in  vain  to  tell  what  we  before  have  Ijeen, 
Or  changes  of  the  world  that  Ave  in  time  have  seen ; 
When,  not  devising  how  to  spend  our  wealth  with  waste, 
We  to  the  savage  swine  let  fall  our  larding  mast, 
But  now,  alas !  ourselves  we  have  not  to  sustain, 
Nor  can  our  tops  sufHce  to  shield  our  roots  from  rain ; 
Jove's  Oak,  the  warlike  Ash,  veyned  Elm,  the  softer  Beech, 
Short  Hazel,  jNIaple  plan,  light  Ash,  the  bending  Wych, 
Tough  Holly,  and  smooth  JJirch,  must  altogether  1)urn. 
What  should  the  Builder  serve,  supplies  the  forger's  turn, 
When  under  public  good,  base  private  gain  takes  hold. 
And  we  poor  woeful  woods  to  ruin  lastly  sold." 

Fuller,  writing  in  1662,  says  that  it  is  to  be  wished 
that  "  a  way  may  be  found  out  to  char  the  sea-coal 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  render  it  useful  for  the 
making  of  iron." 


70  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

Iron  smelting  and  working  had  been  considered 
the  chief  industries  of  the  county,  and  many  families 
became  enriched  in  their  pursuit :  among  them  may 
be  mentioned  the  Burrells  of  Cuckfield.  Relics  of 
these  days  may  be  seen  even  now,  scattered  over  the 
country-side,  in  some  of  the  many  curious  old  farm- 
houses that  remain :  relics  in  the  shape  of  cast-iron 
chimney-back  and  andirons,  many  of  them  very 
effectively  designed.  They  are  now  greatly  sought 
after. 

The  motive  power  used  in  the  ironworks  and  at 
the  furnaces  was  water,  the  difficulties  caused  by  there 
being  no  river  of  sufficient  volume  being  overcome 
by  the  embanking  of  small  streams  to  form  ponds, 
from  which  a  stream  was  allowed  to  escape  by 
hatches  over  the  water-wheels,  whose  motion  gave 
life  to  the  somewhat  primitive  machinery  of  that 
day. 

There  are  very  many  of  these  ponds  remaining 
even  now  in  Sussex  and  Surrey :  they  were  called 
Hammer  Ponds,  and  still  frequently  retain  that  name 
in  common  speech. 

Ifield  ironworks  became  extinct  at  an  early  date  ; 
but  from  a  very  arbitrary  cause.  During  the  fierce 
conflicts  of  the  Civil  War,  the  property  of  Royalists 
was  destroyed  by  the  Puritan  soldiery  wherever 
possible  ;  and  after  the  taking  of  Arundel  Castle  in 
1643,  ^  detachment  of  troops  under  Sir  William 
Waller  wantonly  wrecked  the  works  then  situated 
here,  since  when  they  do  not  appear  to  have  been  at 
any  time  revived. 

It  is  a  pretty  spot  to-day,  and  extremely  quiet ;  the 


SECOND  DAY. 


71 


splash,  splash  of  the  moss-covered  water-wheel  slowly 
revolving,  and  the  flutterings  and  chirpings  of  birds 
alone  breaking  the  silence.  The  pond  itself,  rush 
be-grown,  mirrors  the  tall  and  close  trees,  whose 
reflections  are  only  now  and  again  disturbed  by  the 
circling  ripples  of  some  leaping  fish ;  and  these 
distractions  are  all  you  shall  find,   saving  only  the 


^  /"-;'  ,':^':.i 


A   QUIET   CORXER  AT   CRAWLEY. 


whisperings,  like  some  silken  rustle,  of  the  wayward 
breeze  in  feathered  rushes. 

By  way  of  Gossop's  Green  we  reached  Crawley, 
after  these  pleasant  liugerings  in  unfrequented 
ways,  coming  upon  the  village  through  a  quiet 
lane,  which  had  the  tiled  roofs  of  cottages  and  the 
grey  tower  of  Crawley  Church,  crowned  with  flaming 


72  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

vane,  at  its  farther  end.  And  here  we  were, 
twenty-nine  miles  only  from  London,  and  yet 
soothed  with  peaceful  rurality. 

The  somewhat  steep  ascent  by  the  highway  from 
London  to  Crawley  village,  and  the  extreme  length 
of  its  long  street,  together  with  the  quaint  cottages 
and  their  homely  front  gardens,  give  the  place  so 
pleasing  an  air  of  rusticity,  that,  inconstant  traveller  ! 
vou  vote  it  the  compeer  of  Merstham  in  its  old  world 
charm.  The  large  and  long  patches  of  grass  that 
take  up  so  considerable  a  selvedge  of  Crawley  Street, 
seem  to  speak  with  eloquence  of  those  dead  days  of 
coaching  necessity,  when  even  this  generous  width 
of  roadway  cannot  have  been  an  inch  too  wide  for 
the  traffic  that  crowded  the  village  when  Crawley 
was  a  stage  at  which  every  coach  stopped,  when  the 
air  resounded  with  the  guards'  winding  of  their 
horns,  or  the  playing  of  the  occasional  key-bugle 
to  the  airs  of  "  Sally  in  our  Alley "  or  "  Love's 
Young  Dream."  Then  the  "  George,"  an  inn 
where  cyclists  now  do  mostly  congregate,  was  the 
scene  of  a  continual  bustling,  with  the  shouting 
of  the  ostlers,  the  chink  and  clashing  of  harness, 
and  all  the  tumults  of  travelling,  when  travelling 
was  no  light  affair  of  an  hour  and  a  fraction, 
railway  time. 

Now  there  is  little  in  this  place  to  stir  the  pulses 
or  make  the  heart  leap.  Occasionally  there  is  some 
great  cycle  "  scorch  "  in  progress,  when  the  whirling 
enthusiasts  speed  through  the  village  on  winged 
wheels   beneath   the  sign  of  the  "  George,"  which 


SECOND  DAY.  73 

spans  the  street,  swinging-  in  the  hreeze ;  a  sign  on 
which  the  saintly  knight  wages  eternal  warfare 
with  a  blurred  and  very  invertebrate  dragon. 
Sometimes  a  driving  match  brings  down  sportsmen 
a7id  bookmakers,  and  every  now  and  again  some  one 
has  a  record  to  cut,  be  it  in  cycling,  coaching, 
walking,  or  in  wheelbarrow  trundling ;  and  then  the 
roads  are  peopled  again. 

Even  so  it  was  when  Selby  drove  his  famous 
drive  to  Brighton  and  back,  on  13th  July  1888, 
in  seven  hours  and  fifty  minutes,  a  drive  w^hich 
awakened  the  utmost  enthusiasm  at  that  time, 
and  which  has  not  been  bettered  in  coaching 
exploits  of  our  day,  nor  is  ever  likely  to  be,  now 
that  the  dragsman's  pursuit  is  that  of  pleasure. 
During  the  season  of  1888,  the  time-bill  of  Selby's 
coach,  the  "  Old  Times,"  showed  a  drive  of  vari- 
ously five  and  a  half  and  six  hours,  good  pace  for 
every-day  work.  The  "  Comet,"  too,  of  the  same 
season,  starting  from  Northumberland  Avenue, 
made  a  journey  of  six  hours  ten  minutes,  and 
varied  the  route  in  going  round  by  Albourne. 

For  a  description  of  a  drive  from  Brighton  on 
the  "  Old  Times,"  I  think  I  cannot  do  better  than 
give  you  this  account  from  a  sporting  paper  of 
1888.  Acknowledgments  are  due  "J.  S.  P.,"  whose 
initials  appeared  beneath  the  article  : — 

"  Hand-in-hand  with  Selby  in  this  enterprise  will 
be  found  Messrs.  Becket,  M'Adam,  and  Walter  Dick- 
son, whose  names   alone  will  be  sufficient  to  load 


74  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

the  old  '  shay '  ^Yith  popularity,  each  oue  of  them 
having  the  enviable  reputation  of  being  capital 
fellows  and  good  coachmen.  Some  difference  of 
opinion  naturally  exists  as  to  the  respective  merits 
of  summer  and  winter  coaching.  Although  per- 
sonally a  chilly  mortal,  I  must  confess  to  a  greater 
degree  of  partiality  to  the  latter  portion  of  the  year. 
To  begin  with,  the  spring  is  usually  so  thundering 
cold,  and  the  ^larch  winds  so  bitterly  piercing,  that 
it  takes  you  all  your  time  to  keep  upsides  with 
them  ;  then  later  on,  you  get  any  quantity  of  dust, 
which  is  not  altogether  desirable,  and,  in  addition, 
the  fatigue  to  cattle  must  be  greater  in  a  sweltering 
sun  than  when  rattling  along  with  the  roads  hard, 
and  crisp,  clear,  frosty  air  to  breathe.  At  any  rate, 
I  never  enjoyed  a  drive  more  than  that  from 
Brighton  to  London  recently.  The  King's  Eoad 
was  alive  with  carriages,  equestrians,  and  people, 
who  all  seemed  to  be  of  opinion  that  it  was  a  big 
lark  to  be  alive,  and  the  crowds  which  congregated 
at  the  '  Old  Ship  '  as  the  hour  of  departure  drew  near 
plainly  indicated  the  pleasurable  interest  taken  in 
the  '  Old  Times '  and  its  supporters.  On  pulling 
up  at  the  door,  the  first  to  welcome  me  was  the 
genial  Mr.  Beckett,  who  I  was  delighted  to  find 
ready  and  willing  to  take  charge  of  my  precious 
carcass  on  this  particular  day,  and  as  on  more  than 
one  occasion  during  the  years  I  have  known  him 
I  have  had  cause  to  congratulate  myself  on  the 
ready  resource,  strong  arm,  and  excellent  judgment 
of    this    gentleman- whip    under    somewhat    trying 


CO    .  - 


s. 


SECOND  DAY.  75 

circumstances,  I  considered  myself  particularly  for- 
tunate in  this  instance. 

"  Punctually  to  the  tick  of  the  clock  we  are  off 
with  a  spanking  team  of  skewbalds  and  chestnuts, 
driven  chess-board  fashion,  which,  for  the  benefit 
of  the  uninitiated,  I  may  explain  is  composed  of  a 
skewbald  and  a  chestnut  as  near  and  off  wheelers, 
and  a  chestnut  and  a  skewbald  near  and  off  leaders. 
As  they  jump  into  tlieir  collars  and  settle  down  to 
work  with  the  merry  notes  rattling  out  of  one  of 
Boosey's  horns,  admirably  played  by  Walter  God- 
den,  who,  take  him  all  round,  is  as  good  a  guard 
as  ever  tackled  a  yard  of  tin,  I  felt  an  exhilaration 
to  which  I  had  been  a  stranger  some  time,  and 
wondered  that  ever  a  day  passed  without  this  coach 
being  besieged  by  passengers.  On  this  particular 
morning  we  had  a  capital  load,  and  as  we  shake 
down  into  our  places,  and  get  on  terms  with  each 
other,  the  same  conclusion  is  arrived  at  by  the  rest 
of  the  passengers,  if  their  faces  are  any  index  to 
their  feelings. 

"  Through  pretty  Preston  and  Patcham  village  we 
rattle  at  a  good  eleven  miles  an  hour  on  to  '  Friar's 
Oak,'  where  our  first  change  is  waiting.  This  team 
is  composed  of  two  browns,  a  bay,  and  a  grey.  Mr. 
Beckett  again  mounts  the  box,  and  it  is  pretty 
evident  that  both  horses  and  man  understand  this 
job  as  well  as  the  manner  in  which  it  should  be 
done.  Now  it  isn't  every  one  that  ccm  drive  a 
galloping  stage,  but  the  way  in  which  this  one  is 
accomplished   is   a  rare   treat.     As   we    dash   along 


76  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

through  St.  John's  Common,  up  and  down  the  sharp 
hills  between  there  and  An  sty,  and  so  on  past 
Major  Sergison's  picturesque  seat  (which,  by  the 
way,  is  presumed  to  be  the  scene  of  Ainsworth's 
'  Rookwood,'  to  the  old  '  Talbot '  at  Cuckfield,  the 
conclusion  one  naturally  comes  to  is  that  we  have 
a  nailing  good  coachman  and  a  first-class  coach, 
for  although  the  six  miles  and  a  half  is  done  in  a 
trifle  under  twenty-five  minutes,  there  is  not  the 
slightest  '  wobbling '  to  be  detected.  Our  next 
team  consists  of  three  blacks  and  a  bay,  all  strong 
useful  sorts,  and  they  need  be,  for  it  is  a  stiffish 
stage  from  Cuckfield  to  Pease  Pottage,  although 
a  sweetly  pretty  and  thickly  wooded  country,  the 
autumn  tints  lending  an  additional  charm  to  the 
beautiful  scenery.  At  Pease  Pottage  we  have  a 
sharp  team  in,  to  run  us  over  some  of  the  best 
trotting  ground  in  England,  and  the  way  they  do 
it  is  a  credit  to  them.  Nearing  Crawley,  a  wag 
inquires  whether  we  are  aware  that  this  is  the 
longest  village  in  the  world,  and  on  admitting  our 
ignorance  of  this  geographical  fact,  he  points  out 
the  '  Sun  '  at  one  end  and  the  '  Moon  '  at  the  other. 
Soon  the  '  Chequers '  at  Horley  looms  in  sight,  and 
it  is  with  no  small  amount  of  satisfaction  that  we 
bustle  up  the  few  steps  into  the  luncheon-room  and 
find  an  excellent  spread  provided  by  jolly  host 
Brown,  who  I  firmly  believe  would  rather  provide 
for  the  passengers  gratuitously  than  not  have  the 
coach  at  his  place.  The  crisp  autumn  morning 
has  put  us  all  on  good  terms  with  the  provender, 


SECOND  DAY.  77 

and  the  '  tooth  powder,'  as  Jim  facetiously  calls 
it,  completely  puts  a  stopper  on  conversation  for 
the  time.  The  thirty  minutes'  grace  for  this  all- 
important  operation  being  up,  Godden  reminds  us, 
with  a  very  pretty  call  I  heard  years  ago  from 
Blackburn,  who  at  that  time  "was  with  Captain 
Blythe,  that  our  seats  must  be  taken,  and  with  a 
spanking  team  of  sporting  greys,  we  trot  along  at  a 
merry  pace  past  Earlswood  Asylum,  and  on  through 
Eedhill  to  Merstham.  Formerly  this  stage  was 
extended  to  Smitham  Bottom,  a  distance  of  eleven 
miles  (like  the  Irishman's,  too  long  and  narrow), 
but  the  present  proprietors  have  very  wisely  cut 
this  into  two,  making  the  second  stage  from  Mers- 
tham to  Purley  Bottom.  From  Merstham  we  have 
a  mixed  team,  but  all  good  ones,  and  they  must 
be  good  on  this  road,  for  the  fifty-two  miles  and 
a  half  from  the  '  Cellars '  to  the  '  Old  Ship '  is 
covered  in  six  hours,  including  half  an  hour  for 
lunch  and  seven  changes.  Arrived  at  Purley  Bot- 
tom, we  have  a  clever  team,  composed  of  a  roan 
near  wheel,  grey  off  wheel,  and  a  couple  of  chestnut 
leaders,  quick  as  light  and  clever  as  cats.  In 
Mr.  Beckett's  hands  the  way  they  rattle  through 
Croydon,  with  its  beastly  tram-rails,  naiTow  streets, 
and  crowded  traffic  is  a  caution,  and  so  on  to 
Streatham,  where  our  last  change  is  effected. 

"  The  shades  of  night  are  now  falling  fast,  and  the 
five  powerful  lamps  which  this  coach  carries  gives 
it  a  very  imposing  appearance,  and  serves  to  show 
us    the    pick  of  the    basket    in   the   London   team. 


78  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

This  is  made  up  of  three  browns  and  a  bay,  all 
very  fast,  with  ripping  action  and  in  the  pink  of 
condition.  We  hop  on  quickly  with  these  past 
Clapham  Common,  over  Chelsea  Bridge,  and,  all 
too  soon,  Grosvenor  Place  and  Piccadilly  are  reached, 
the  whole  journey  having  been  completed  in  masterly 
style,  and  the  advertised  time  to  half  a  minute. 
Better  coach,  better  cattle,  better  waggoners,  and 
better  road  cannot  be  found,  and  if  the  winter 
season  of  the  'Old  Times'  in  1887-88  is  not  a 
success,  it  ought  to  be.  If  my  good  wishes  will 
keep  these  plucky  and  high-spirited  sportsmen  in 
their  venture,  they  are  heartily  welcome  to  them, 
and  as  one  of  my  fellow-passengers  hit  it  off  poeti- 
cally in  the  form  of  a  toast : — 

Here's  the  '  Old  Times,'  it's  one  of  the  best, 

Which  no  coaching  man  will  deny, 

Fifty  miles  down  the  road  with  a  jolly  good  load, 

Between  London  and  Brighton  each  day. 

Beckett,  M'Adam,  and  Dickey,  the  driver,  are  there. 

Of  old  Jim's  presence  every  one  is  aware. 

They  are  all  nailing  good  sorts. 

And  go  in  for  all  sports. 

So  we'll  all  go  a  coaching  to-day." 

Of  very  great  interest,  also,  is  this  table  of  time 
occupied  in  the  "Record  drive,"  with  remarks. 
The  times  were  taken  throughout  by  chronograph^ 
and  may  be  relied  upon  as  thoroughly  accurate : — 


SECOND  DAY 


c70 


COACHING  FEAT— LONDON  TO  BRIGHTON  AND  BACK, 

I4tli  July  1888. 


Pliice. 


London  . 
Streatliaui 


Croj'don      .     . 

Purley  Bottom 
]\Ierstluim    .     . 

Hoiiey  .  .  . 
Crawley .  .  . 
Pease  Pottage  . 


Hand  Cross 

Cuckfield     .  . 

Friar's  Oak .  . 

Patcham      .  . 

Sliip  Inn,  Brigh- 
ton .... 


Time  of 
Arrival. 


10.28 


IO-57 
1 1.27 

11.51^ 


12.23! 


12-33^ 

12-53* 

1. 17 

1.40 

1.56 


Time  of 
Departure. 


10.29 


10.58! 
1 1.29 

II.52I 


12.25 


12.54! 


1. 41 


Remarks. 


Clianged  in  47  sees.,  Mr. 
P.lyth,  Mr.  M'Adani,  and 
Mr.  Beckett  personally 
assisting. 

Passed  through ;  passed 
West  Croydon  Church 
at  10.45. 

Changed  in  i  iiiiii.  5  sees. 

Plate  greased  J  relay;  ac- 
complished in  2  mins. 

Changed  horses  in  55  sees.; 
28  miles  accomplished  in 
I  hour  5i|  mins.;  luncL 

Ran  through;  short  stop- 
page, as  the  level-crossing 
railway  gates  were  closed. 

Changed  in  i  miu.  2  sees.; 
passed  Tom  Sayers'  late 
residence  ;  thirty -tliird 
milestone  passed  12.31^. 

Ran  through. 

Changed  in  i  min.  8  sees. 

Changed  in  i  min. 

Changed  in  47  sees. 

Turned  round  :  ^Ir.  Blyth 
ran  in  for  wires ;  tele- 
gram from  Duke  of  Beau- 
fort; work. 


8o 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


Place. 

Time  of 
Arrival. 

Time  of 
Departure. 

Remarks. 

The  Kennels    . 

2.17i 

2.20 

Company  got  do-\vn  for  first 
time. 

Friar's  Oak  . 

2.35 

-    2.36 

Changed   horses ;    greased 
plate. 

Cuckfield     .  •    . 

2.54 

2-55 

Hand  Cross 

3-2ii 

Passed  JM'Calmont's  coach 
3-27i- 

Pease  Pottage  . 

3-29 

3-30 

Changed  in  about  i  min. 

Crawley . 

Passed  through ;  out  of 
Sussex  into  Surrey  at 
3.34;  dust. 

Horley    .     .     . 

3-571 

z-sH 

56  sees,  in  changing. 

Redhill  .     .     . 

4.12 

Turned  Corner  galloping. 

Mersthani    . 

4.24 

4-25 

Greased  plate  again  :  God- 
den  presented  witli  a 
liouquet. 

Purley  Bottom 

4-51 

4-52 

Change,  50  sees. 

Croydon      .     . 

Right  through  ;  carts  made 
way  ;  Mr.  Blyth  thanked 
local  police  : — "  Thank 
you  very  much,  officer." 

Streatliam  .     . 

5.20 

5.21 

Change,  55  sees.;  company 
joyful  ;  remarks — "  50 
to  I  on  us ; "  'busmen, 
"Bravo,  you'll  do  it." 

Piccadilly    .     . 

5-5° 

Cheers. 

SECOND  DAY.  8i 

The  Times  report  of  the  record  drive  is  as 
follows  : — "  The  '  Old  Times '  coach  was  driven  from 
the  'White  Horse  Cellars'  to  Brighton  and  back 
for  a  wager  of  ^looo  to  ^500,  that  the  matter 
could  not  be  accomplished  in  eight  hours.  The 
proprietors  of  the  coach  accepted  the  bet,  in  the 
interests  of  Mr.  James  Selby,  at  the  recent  meeting 
at  Ascot,  with  the  resolve  that,  if  they  w-on,  the 
^1000  should  be  presented  to  that  well-known 
driver.  The  proprietors  of  the  coach  accompanied 
the  team,  with  only  a  few  friends.  Mr.  James 
Selby,  the  whip,  has  driven  the  '  Old  Times '  for 
many  years,  and  is  well  known  on  the  Brighton 
Eoad ;  for  the  past  twenty  years  having  taught 
more  men  to  drive  in  England  than  any  man  in 
the  kingdom.  Mr.  Percy  Edwards,  ^^atchmaker, 
of  Piccadilly,  started  the  team,  and  the  times  were 
taken  throughout  by  Benson's  chronograph.  The 
start  was  effected  from  Hatchett's  Hotel  punctually 
at  10  A.M.  The  police  did  all  they  could  to  keep 
the  road  clear ;  and,  soon  after  the  start,  twelve 
miles  an  hour  was  kept  up.  Streatham  ('  Horse 
and  Groom')  was  reached  at  10.28,  and  the  horses 
changed  in  forty-seven  seconds,  some  of  the  gentle- 
men getting  off  and  assisting  in  performing  the 
feat.  A  bicycle  rider  named  O'Neill  joined  the 
coach  hereabouts,  and  followed  it  as  far  as  Mers- 
tham.  Everywhere  the  coach  was  enthusiastically 
received  and  cheered.  West  Croydon  was  passed 
at  10.45.  I^  passing  Croydon  a  uniform  pace  of 
thirteen  miles  an  hour  was  maintained.  At  the 
*  Windsor  Castle,'  at  Purley  Bottom,  another  change 

F 


82  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

of  teams  took  place,  which  occupied  one  minute 
five  seconds.  The  roads  after  leaving  Redhill  at 
times  became  heavy ;  but  nevertheless  a  good  pace 
was  maintained  throughout,  increased  at  times, 
between  Earlswood  and  Horley,  to  twenty  miles 
an  hour. 

"Horley  was  reached  at  11.51^,  and  Crawley  at 
1 2. 1 1.  Here  the  only  hitch  took  place,  through 
the  level-crossing  gates  being  closed  ;  but  the  coach 
was  allowed  to  go  on  after  a  delay  of  only  about 
two  minutes.  The  coach  arrived  at  the  '  Old 
Ship'  at  I  hour,  56  minutes,  10  seconds,  having 
accomplished  the  journey  just  under  four  hours. 
The  stay  at  Brighton  was  only  momentary ;  the 
halt  at  the  '  Old  Ship '  was  only  long  enough  to 
satisfy  the  party  that  it  was  still  there.  The  horses 
were  merely  turned  round  and  a  few  telegrams 
handed  up.  One  to  Captain  Blyth  from  the  Duke 
of  Beaufort  read  : — '  Thank  you  much  ;  sorry  could 
not  go  ;  fine  fresh  day.  Hope  six  o'clock  will  find 
you  at  the  Cellars.     Sharp  work. — Beaufort.' 

"  The  whip  proceeded  to  work,  and  drove  ofi"  amid 
the  cheers  of  a  large  crowd  at  Brighton.  The 
party  came  back  by  the  same  route.  Every  one 
made  way,  and  at  numerous  places  en  route 
bouquets  were  thrown  on  the  coach.  Stoppages 
were  made  at  the  Kennels,  Friar's  Oak,  Cuckfield, 
Pease  Pottage,  Horley,  Merstham,  Purley  Bottom,  and 
Strcatham,  to  change  teams,  and  ultimately  Selby 
brought  his  party  safe  to  town  in  splendid  style, 
arriving  at  Piccadilly  at  5.50,  or  ten  minutes  under 
the  stipulated  time  to  win  the  bet.     Many  members 


SECOND  DAY,  83 

of  the  Coaching  Chib  and  naval  and  military  officers 
were  present,  and  greatly  cheered  Selby  on  his 
success." 

A  great  drive  this,  and  a  great  driver  ;  one  who 
worthily  resuscitated  the  good  old  traditions  of 
the  road.  One  who  has  had  the  good  fortune  to 
go  down  to  Brighton  on  the  "  Old  Times "  coach, 
with  Selby  on  the  box  and  Godden  as  guard,  will 
not  readily  forget  so  enjoyable  a  drive,  for  good 
stories  and  good  company  were  assured. 

But  Selby  did  not  live  long  to  enjoy  the  world- 
wide repute  his  great  performance  gained  him.  He 
died  when  only  forty-four  years  of  age,  at  the  end 
of  the  same  year  that  saw  this  splendid  feat  of  the 
accomplished  dragsman.  This  sympathetic  notice, 
written  at  the  time  by  one  who  knew  him  well,  I 
take  from  the  Sporting  Life  of  Monday,  December 
17,  1888:— 

"THE  LATE  MR.  JAMES  SELBY. 


'  Hi^  form  was  of  the  iiiaulicst  beauty.' 
'  His  virtues  were  so  rare.' 

"  Coaching  men  of  every  degree  will  hardly  realise 
the  sad  fact  that  Jim,  '  Dear  Old  Jim,'  has  departed 
from  our  midst,  never  more  to  hear  the  cheery  note 
of  the  horn,  the  musical  rattle  of  the  bars  he  loved 
so  well,  or  to  unfurl  that  double  thong  which  in 
his  hands  was  used  with  such  unerring  judgment 
and  discrimination.  Never  more  for  us  to  see  that 
square-built  manly  form  and  sunny  face  ;  sure 
index    of  the    true    warm    licart    that    was    always 


84  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

open  to  the  sorrows  of  others.  Ah  me  !  that  such 
a  man  has  departed  at  the  comparatively  early  age 
of  forty-four  will  be  regretted  alike  by  peer  and 
peasant.  Articled  as  a  youth  to  an  auctioneer,  he 
soon  grew  tired  of  the  monotony  of  the  desk,  and 
when  asked  his  reason  for  throwing  up  the  appoint- 
ment, replied  that  it  was  all  very  well  as  far  as  it 
went,  but  they  hadn't  any  horses  in  the  business. 
He  remained  with  his  father,  who  then  kept  the 
'  Railway  Hotel '  at  Colney  Hatch,  together  with 
a  considerable  livery  stable  business,  afterwards 
removing  to  a  similar  business  at  Potter's  Bar, 
where  he  confined  his  attention  to  perfecting  by 
practice  those  matchless  hands  which  have  subdued 
some  of  the  hottest  equine  tempers  that  have  ever 
carried  leather.  He  had  a  peculiar  mastery  over 
horses,  achieved  by  an  iron  nerve  and  complete 
command  of  his  own  temper.  I  have  seldom  in 
the  course  of  a  long  number  of  years  seen  him 
really  angry  with  or  punish  them.  A  whisper — 
as  he  quaintly  termed  it — was  sufficient,  but  if  the 
necessity  did  arise  for  a  salutary  lesson,  it  was  ad- 
ministered "  hot  with."  His  first  appearance  as 
a  professional  whip  was  on  the  Tunbridge  Wells 
road,  in  1870,  with  the  Earl  of  Bective  and  Colonel 
Clitherow  as  proprietors,  and  afterwards  on  the 
same  road  with  Colonel  Hawthorn,  who,  he  used 
to  say,  had  the  best  cattle  that  ever  drew  a  road 
coach.  When  this  ceased  running,  he  accepted  an 
engagement  with  Mr.  Charles  Hoare  and  Lord  Arthur 
Somerset,  the  joint  proprietors  of  the  '  Rapid ' 
West  Wickham  and  London  coach.     Many  a  happy 


JAMI-.S    SKI.HY. 
(From  a  riioto  by  Mr.  11.  II '.  Maolonahi,  Eton.) 


SECOND  DAY.  85 

afternoon  and  evening  did  the  writer  spend  witli 
him  in  those  days,  driving  to  West  Wickham  with 
the  coach  and  back  to  Mr.  Charles  Hoare's  mansion 
at  Beckenham,  where  the  old  buggy  was  waiting 
to  bring  us  back  to  town,  drawn  by  a  roan  mare 
that  no  one  could  do  with  but  Jim.  On  November 
4,  1879,  he  made  his  first  journey  as  proprietor  of 
the  'Old  Times'  to  St.  Alban's,  with  the  late  Major 
Harry  Dixon  and  a  few  other  friends  as  subscribers. 
In  1881  saw  a  fresh  departure,  Virginia  Water 
being  the  destination  in  summer  and  Windsor  the 
winter  route.  It  was  their  proud  boast  that  the 
coach  had  never  been  off  the  road  a  single  day 
(Sundays  excepted),  and  as  an  instance  of  his  dogged 
determination  that  it  should  run  as  advertised,  it 
may  be  mentioned  that  the  terrible  snowstorm  of 
January  18,  1881,  did  not  prevent  him  from  doing 
the  journey,  accompanied  only  by  the  Major.  The 
exposure  of  that  fearful  day,  however,  told  its 
tale.  Poor  Harry  Dixon  was  never  quite  the  same 
man  afterwards,  and  I  fear  that  in  Jim's  case  the 
seeds  were  sow-n  which  eventually  undermined  his 
iron  constitution. 

"  For  a  little  over  a  year  now  the  '  Old  Times  ' 
has  been  running  to  Brighton,  and  it  was  in  this 
connection  that  his  sensational  performance  on  the 
I3tli  of  July  last  of  driving  the  whole  distance  from 
London  to  Brighton  and  back  {108  miles)  in  the 
unprecedented  time  of  seven  hours  fifty  minutes  came 
about. 

"  To  many  this  may  not  appear  such  a  gigantic 
undertaking    as    it    really    is,    but   to    experienced 


86  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

coaching  men  the  performance  of  the  task,  and  the 
qualities  of  strength  and  endurance  necessary  to 
bring  it  to  a  successful  issue,  were  appreciated  at 
their  true  value. 

"  He  was  indeed  a  man  whose  like  we  do  not  often 
see.  Loved  and  respected  by  high  and  low,  rich 
and  poor,  for  his  honest,  sunny  nature,  his  loss 
will  be  felt  by  all.  To  the  writer  personally  he 
was  a  warm-hearted  friend  for  many  years — in  fair 
weather  or  foul,  ever  the  same  kindly  welcome,  the 
same  cheery  smile  and  shake  of  the  hand,  now, 
alas  !  cold  in  death.  May  his  memory  be  kept  green 
in  the  hearts  of  those  who  knew  him  intimately !  " 

Coaching  and  coachmen  have  always  inspired  the 
poetic  Muse  equally  with  hunting  and  other  manly 
sports  ;  so  I  need  make  no  apology  for  inserting  this 
metrical  lament  for  his  colleague  by  the  "Old  Times  " 
guard  : — 

5n  /IDcmodam 

OF 

The  Late  JAMES  SELBY, 

BY  HIS  GUARD. 

Air—''  Good  Old  Jeff." 

"  They  say  it's  ju8t  ten  years  ago  since  8ell)y's  coach  first  ran, 
With  good  old  Major  Dixon  on,  a  thorough  coaching  man, 
The  coach  has  never  missed  a  day,  no  matter  hail  or  snow, 
Jim  Selhy's  motto  always  was,  '  The  "  Old  Times  "  still  must  go.' 

Chorus. 

"  We'll   ne'er  see  niore   that  dear  old  face,  those  eyes  in  death 
are  dim  ; 
He's  done  his  stage,  and  done  it  well,  our  friend  and  favourite,  Jim. 


SECOND  DAY.  87 

"  In  January  eighty-one  the  snow  lay  far  and  wide, 
Still  Selby  struggled  bravely  on,  the  Major  by  his  side  ; 
The  best  of  friends  they  were  in  life,  now  both  are  gone  to  rest ; 
It  seems  that  those  who  leave  lis  now  arc  tliose  we  love  the  best. 

"  The  last  ride  that  our  old  friend  had  was  on  the  Brighton  Road, 
"Whilst  he  with  favourite  anecdote  amused  his  sporting  load ; 
But  now  he's  left  us  all  to  mourn  for  liiin,  so  kind  and  true, 
Respected  both  by  rich  and  ] i',  in  fact,  l)y  all  lie  knew. 

"  iS^e'er  shall  I  ride  another  stage  with  him  I  loved  so  well, 
Or  tootle  on  his  favourite  horn  the  tunes  to  me  he'd  tell ; 
For  now  he's  gone  to  realms  al)ove,  all  ])leasure  here  is  marred ; 
A  good  old  master  and  a  friend  was  he  to  me,  his  Guard." 

Walter  Godden. 

It  ^vas  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  ubiquitous 
and  emulative  cyclist  would  be  content  to  leave  the 
coaching  record  alone.  Cycling  has  indeed  ever 
been  industriously  pursued  on  this  road  ;  for  it  was 
in  ancient  days  (in  cycling  chronology),  before  cycles 
had  earned  their  present  name,  and  when  they  were 
known  as  velocipedes — in  1 869,  in  fact — that  the  first 
cyclist,  or,  as  he  then  was  termed,  velocipedist, 
essayed  to  ride  from  London  to  Brighton.  That 
he  accomplished  his  task  reflects  credit  upon  his 
name  and  powers  of  endurance  ;  for  all  who  have 
experimentally  ridden  the  "boneshaker"  of  that 
time  know  that  the  physical  qualities  required  for 
such  a  feat  on  such  a  machine  arc  of  no  mean  order. 
The  pioneer's  credit  (on  the  Brighton  Road)  be- 
longs to  the  late  Mr.  John  Mayall,  junior,  who  died 
during  the  summer  of  1891.  He  started  with  two 
companions  from  Trafalgar  Square  on  Wednesday, 
17th  February  1869.  The  party  of  three  kept 
together   until  Redhill   was  reached,   when   Mayall 


88 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


took    the    lead,    and    eventually    reached    Brighton 
alone.     The  time  occupied  was  about  twelve  hours. 


THE  LATE  JOHN  MAYALL,  JUN. 


(From photo  taken  in  1886,  lent  hy  Mrs.  Mayall.) 

As  cycling  became  more  popular,  and  as   cycles 
progressed  in  speed  and  lightness,  rides  to  Brighton 


SECOND  DAY.  89 

became  more  and  more  frequent.  Such,  and  even 
very  mncli  longer  journeys,  in  one  day  were  soon 
so  common  as  to  be  accounted  of  no  importance 
whatever.  Then  came  the  era  of  records,  which  is 
still  with  us.  Early  record  rides  on  this  road  are 
of  little  account,  both  by  reason  of  bad  timing  and 
of  the  different  starting-places  chosen.  But  after 
Selby's  coach  drive  records  became  many  and 
scientific,  the  recognised  points  being  Platchett's 
Hotel  (old  White  Horse  Cellars)  and  the  "  Old 
Ship,"  Brighton. 

Many  unsuccessful  attempts  were  made  to  break 
the  coach  record.  The  first  successful  attempt  was 
that  of  loth  August  1889,  when  four  cyclists — E.  J. 
Willis,  G.  L.  Morris,  C.  W.  Schafer,  and  S.  Walker- 
did  the  108  miles  out  and  home  in  7  hours  36 
minutes  and  ig?  seconds,  dividing  the  journey  be- 
tween them,  and  using  the  same  machine.  M.  A. 
Holbein  and  P.  C.  Wilson  made  (singly)  unsuccess- 
ful attempts  somewhat  later.  The  next  team  of 
four — J.  F.  Shute,  T.  W.  Girling,  R.  Wilson,  and 
A.  E.  Griffin — on  30th  March  1890,  reduced  the 
previous  team's  record  by  4  minutes  19'j  seconds, 
and  their  time  was  beaten  on  the  13th  April  by 
E.  and  W.  Scantlebury,  W.  W.  Arnott,  and  J.  Blair, 
who  left  the  record  at  7  hours  25  minutes  15  seconds. 
Then  Wilson  tried  again  single-handed,  without 
success.  It  was  left  to  F.  W.  Shorland,  a  very 
young  rider,  to  be  the  first  of  a  series  of  single- 
handed  breakers  of  the  coaching  time.  He  accom- 
plished the  feat  in  June  1890  upon  a  pneumatic- 
tyred  "  Facile "  safety,  and  reduced   the  time  to  7 


90  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

hours  19  minutes,  being  himself  beaten  on  July 
23rd  by  S.  F.  Edge,  riding  a  cushion-tyred  safety. 
Edge  put  the  time  at  7  hours  2  minutes  50  seconds, 
and,  in  addition,  first  beat  Selby's  outward  journey, 
the  times  being — coach,  3  hours  36  minutes;  cycle, 
3  hours  18  minutes  25  seconds.  Then  came  yet 
another  stalwart,  C.  A.  Smith,  who,  on  September 
3rd  of  the  same  year,  beat  Edge  by  10  minutes  40 
seconds.  Even  a  tricyclist — E.  P.  Moorhouse — 
essayed  the  feat  on  the  30th  September,  but  failed, 
his  time  being  8  hours  9  minutes  24  seconds. 

On  June  i  of  this  present  year  S.  F.  Edge  again 
held  the  record,  beating  Smith's  time  by  63  seconds. 


THIRD  DAY. 


HE  morning  was  not  of 
the  most  promising  de- 
scription, saving  only 
in  the  promises  of  evil 
weather  that  met  our 
glances  at  an  early  hour ; 
but  the  spring  showers  that 
fell  so  briskly  during  break- 
fast-time fell  at  last  through 
a  glorious  burst  of  sunshine  that  seemed  to  dry  up 
the  weeping  heavens  as  by  magic  power. 

Down  the  street  the  air  was  full  of  the  scent 
of  those  old-fashioned  flowers  that  gladden  the 
heart  by  their  artless  beauty,  their  rich  odours,  and 
their  gladsome  profusion  at  the  year's  awakening. 
If  Patrick  Ilannay,  that  sweet  seventeenth-century 


92 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


singer,  melodious  but  little  known,  had  writ  these 
lines  a  j^^ojyos  of  Crawley  on  such  an  occasion  as 
this,  he  could  hardly  have  better  fitted  the  time  and 
scene  to  his  tuneful  rhyme  : — 

"  The  blooming  borders  fresh  and  faire, 
Were  clad  with  cloathes  of  colours  rare, 

Which  fairest  Flora  fram'd  : 
The  Hyacinth,  the  selfe-lov'd  lad, 
Adonis,  Amarantlms  sad, 

Their  pleasing  places  claim'd. 
The  Primrose  pride  of  pleasing  Prime, 

With  roses  of  each  hew  : 
The  Cowslip,  Pinke,  and  Savory  Thyme, 

And  Gilly-flower  there  grew. 

The  Marygold 

Which  to  behold 

Her  lover  loaths  the  night. 

Locking  her  leaves 

She  inward  grieves, 

Wlien  Sol  is  out  of  sight." 


And 


"  Upon  the  boughs  and  tops  of  trees, 
Blythe  birds  did  sit  as  thicke  as  Bees 

On  blooming  Beanes  doe  bait : 
And  every  Bird  some  loving  noat 
Did  warble  thorow  the  swelling  throat 

To  wooe  the  wanton  mate. 
There  might  be  heard  the  throbl^ing  Thrush, 

The  Bull-finch  blyth  her  by ; 
Tlie  Blacke-bird  in  another  bush. 

With  thousands  more  her  nie. 

The  ditties  all, 
To  great  and  small, 

Sweet  Philomel  did  set. 
In  all  the  grounds 
Of  Musicke  sounds, 

Tliose  darlings  did  direct." 


THIRD  DAY.  93 

We  have  it  on  the  authority  of  writers  who  fared 
this  way  in  early  coaching  days  that  Crawley  was  a 
"poor  place." 

As  many  of  the  houses  now  standing  in  the 
village  are  of  Georgian  times,  and  are,  some  of 
them,  not  inconsiderable  buildings,  we  may  assume 
that  the  village  owed  much  to  its  receipt  of  high- 
way custom.  There  are  yet  remaining  a  few  cot- 
tages of  ancient  build  in  its  one  long  street,  and 
its  grey,  embattled   church-tower  lends  an  assured 


OLD   COTTAGE,   CRAWLEY. 


antiquity  to  the  view ;  but  there  is,  in  especial, 
one  picturesque  cottage  of  sixteenth-century  date 
that  is  worthy  notice.  Its  timbered  frame  stands 
as  securely,  though  not  so  erect,  as  ever,  and  is 
eloquent  of  that  spacious  age  when  the  Virgin 
Queen  ruled  the  land.  Here,  indeed,  Victoria  and 
Elizabeth  foregather,  for  against  that  sunny  wall 
the  postal  authorities  have  placed  a  Haming  letter- 
box, whose  cypher  of  V.R.  gives  in  this  conjunction 
an  ample  field   for  reflection    in    the  philosophical 


94 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


mind.  They  are,  too,  conservative  folks  at  Cravs^ley, 
When  that  ancient  elm  of  theirs  that  stands  directly 
belovs^  this  old  cottage  had  become  decayed  with 
lapse  of  years  and  failure  of  sap,  they  did  not, 
even  though  its  vast  trunk  obtrudes  upon  the  road- 
way, cut  it  down  and  scatter  its  remains  abroad. 
Instead,  they  fenced  it  around  with  as  decorative 
a  rustic  railing  as  might  well  be  contrived  out  of 
cut  boughs,  all  innocent  of  the  carpenter,  and  still 
retaining  their  bark,  and  they  planted  the  enclosure 

with  flowers  and  tender 
saplings,  so  that  this  vene- 
rable ruin  is  become  a  very 
attractive  ruin  indeed. 

There  is  but  one  literary 
celebrity  whose  name  goes 
down  to  posterity  asso- 
ciated with  this  village. 
At  Vine  Cottage,  near  the 
railway  station,  resided 
Mark  Lemon,  editor  of 
Punch,  who  died  on  the 
2oth  May  1870,  The  only 
other  inhabitant  of  Craw- 
ley whose  deeds  informed 
the  world  at  large  of  his 
name  and  existence  was  a  character  very  much 
more  in  harmony  with  the  traditions  of  this  classic 
road,  this  Appian  Way  of  Corinthianism.  I  name 
Tom  Cribb.  But  though  I  lighted  upon  the  statement 
of  his  residence  here  at  one  time,  yet,  after  hunting 
up  details  of  his  life  and  the  battles  he  fought,  after 


KEGEXCV    nUCKS. 


THIRD  DAY.  95 

pursuing  him  through  the  classic  pages  of  "Boxiana  " 
and  the  voluminous  records  of  "  Pugilistica,"  after 
consulting,  too,  that  sprightly  work  "  The  Fancy, " 
after  all  this  I  find  no  further  mention  of  the  fact. 
It  was  fitting,  though,  that  the  pugilist  should  have 
his  home  so  near  Crawley  Downs,  the  scene  of  so 
many  of  the  Homeric  combats  witnessed  by  thousands 
upon  thousands  of  excited  spectators,  from  the  Czar 
of  Russia  and  the  great  Prince  Eegent  downwards 
to  the  lowest  blackguards  of  the  metropolis.  An 
inspiring  sight  those  Downs  must  have  presented 
from  time  to  time,  when  great  multitudes,  princes, 
patricians,  pimps,  and  plebeians  of  every  description 
hung  with  beating  hearts  and  bated  breath  upon 
the  performances  of  two  men  in  a  roped  enclosure 
battering  one  another  for  so  much  a  side.  But,  at 
any  rate,  the  spectators  generally  saw  what  they 
went  to  see  ;  the  combatants  earned  their  pay,  and 
those  who  paid  the  piper  were  not  baulked  of  the 
tune.  Now-a-days  the  pugilist  does  most  of  his 
fighting  in  the  papers ;  the  pen  is  mightier  than 
the  fist. 

These  things  considered,  it  cannot  be  matter  for 
surprise  that  the  Brighton  Road,  on  its  several 
routes,  witnessed  brilliant  and  dashing  turn-outs, 
both  in  public  coaches  and  private  equipages,  during 
that  time  when  the  last  of  the  Georges  flourished  so 
flamboyantly  as  Prince,  Prince  Regent,  and  King. 
How  other  could  it  have  been  with  the  C^ourt  at 
one  end  of  it  and  the  metropolis  at  the  other,  and 
between  both  the  rendezvous  of  all  such  as  delighted 
in  the  "noble  art"  ? 


96  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

Many  were  the  merry  "mills"  which  "came  off" 
at  Crawley  Downs,  Copthorne  Common,  Blindley 
Heath,  and  other  parts  of  these  two  counties,  fre- 
quently attended  by  the  Prince  and  his  merry  men, 
conspicuous  among  whom  at  different  times  were 
Fox,  Lord  Barrymore,  Lord  Yarmouth  ("Red  Her- 
rings "),  and  Major  George  Hanger.  As  for  the  tap- 
pings of  claret,  the  punchings  of  conks  and  bread- 
baskets, and  the  tremendous  sloggings  that  went  on 
in  this  neighbourhood  in  those  virile  times,  are  they 
not  set  forth  with  much  circumstantial  detail  in  the 
pages  of  "Fistiana"  and  "Boxiana"?  There  shall 
you  read  how  the  Prince  Regent,  together  with  an 
immense  concourse  of  Bucks,  witnessed  with  en- 
thusiasm such  merry  sets-to  as  this  between  Randall 
and  Martin  on  Crawley  Downs.  "  Boxiana  "  gives  a 
full  account  of  it,  and  is  even  moved  to  verse,  in  this 
wise,  with  great  display  of  title  : — 

THE   FIGHT  AT  CRAWLEY 

BETWEEN 

THE   NONPAEEIL 

AND 

THE  OUT-AIsTD-OUTER. 

"  Come,  won't  you  list  unto  my  lay 
About  the  fight  at  Crawley,  0  ! "  .  , 

with  the  refrain — 

"With  his  filaloo  trillaloo, 
Wliack,  fal  lal  do  dal  di  d(i  do  !  " 

For  the  number  of  rounds  and  such-like  technical 
details   I  refer  the  curious  to  the  classic  pages  of 


THIRD  DAY.  97 

"Boxiana"  itself;  but  this  description,  curiously 
italicised,  of  the  crowd  that  went  to  see  is  worthy 
the  extensive  quotation  T  append  : — 

"  GRAN] )  PUOILISTIC  COMBAT, 

Bchoecn  Eandcdl  and  Martin,  at  Crawley  Downs,  tliiriij  miles 
from  London,  on  Tuesday,  May  4.  18 19. 

"  The  Fancy  were  all  upon  the  alert  soon  after 
breakfiist-time,  on  the  Monday,  to  ascertain  the  seat 
of  action,  and  as  soon  as  the  important  ivhisper  had 
gone  forth,  that  Crawley  Down  was  likely  to  be  the 
place,  the  toddlers  were  off  in  a  twinkling.  The 
gigs  were  soon  brushed  up,  the  prads  harnessed, 
and  the  'boys'  who  intended  to  enjoy  themselves 
on  the  road  were  in  motion.  Heavy  drags  and 
waggons  were  also  to  be  witnessed  creeping  along 
full  of  people  and  plenty  of  grub.  Between  the 
hours  of  two  and  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
upwards  of  one  hundred  gigs  were  counted  passing 
through  Croydon.  The  Bonifaces  chuckled  again 
wdth  delight,  and  screiving  was  the  order  of  the  day. 
Long  before  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  every  bed 
belonging  to  the  inns  and  public-houses  in  God- 
stone,  East  Grinstead,  lleigate,  Bletchingley,  &c., 
&c.,  were  doubly  and  some  trebly  occupied.  The 
country  folks  also  came  in  for  a  snack  of  the  thing, 
and  the  simple  Johnny  Raws,  who  felt  no  hesita- 
tion in  sitting  up  all  night,  if  they  could  turn  their 
beds  to  account,  with  much  modesty  only  asked 
one  pound  and  fifteen  shillings  each  for  an  hour  or 
two's  sleep.  The  private  houses  were  thus  filled. 
Five  and  seven  shillings  were  also  charged  for  the 

G 


98  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

stand  of  a  horse  in  any  wretched  hut.  But  those 
customers  who  were  Jly  to  all  the  tricks  and  fancies 
of  life,  and  who  would  not  be  nailed  at  any  price, 
preferred  going  to  roost  in  a  barn ;  while  others, 
possessing  rather  more  gaiety,  and  who  set  sleep  at 
defiance,  blowed  a  cloud  over  some  heavy  wet,  devour- 
ing the  rich  points  of  a  jlash  chaunt,  and  thought 
no  more  of  time  hanging  heavily  than  they  did  of 
the  Classics,  chaiinting,  and  swiping  till  many  of  the 
young  sprigs  dropped  off  their  perches;  while  the 
Oulcl  Ones  felt  the  influence  of  the  Dustman,  and 
were  glad  to  drop  their  nohs  to  obtain  forty  ivinhs. 
Those  persons  whose  hlunt  enabled  them  to  procure 
beds  could  not  obtain  any  sleep,  for  carriages  of 
every  description  were  passing  through  the  above 
towns  all  night.  Things  passed  on  in  this  manner 
till  daylight  began  to  peep.  Then  the  swells  in  their 
barouches  and  four ;  and  the  swift-trotting  fanciers, 
all  hurried  from  the  Metropolis  ;  and  the  road  ex- 
hibited the  bustle  of  the  p)rimest  day  of  Epsom 
Races.  The  Brilliants  also  left  Brighton,  Worthing, 
&c.,  about  the  same  period,  and  thus  were  the  roads 
thronged  in  every  direction.  '  The  pitiless  pelting 
shower'  commenced  furiously  at  six  o'clock  on  the 
Tuesday  morning,  but  it  damped  nothing  but  the 
dust.  The  Fancy  are  too  game  to  prevent  anything 
like  weather  interrupting  their  sports.  The  ogles 
of  the  turnpike  men  let  not  half  a  chance  slip 
through  their  fingers,  and  those  persons,  either 
from  carelessness  or  accident,  who  had  not  preserved 
their  tickets,  were  physicked  by  paying  twice  at  the 
same  gate.     The  weather  at  length  cleared  up,  and 


THIRD  DAY.  99 

by  twelve  o'clock  the  aniphitheatrc  on  Crawley 
Down  had  a  noble  eflfect,  and  thousands  of  persons 
were  assembled  at  the  above  spot.  It  is  supposed, 
if  the  carriages  had  all  been  placed  in  one  line, 
they  would  have  reached  from  London  to  Crawley. 
The  amateurs  were  of  the  highest  distinction,  and 
several  noblemen  and  foreigners  of  rank  were  upon 
the  ground." 

Martin,  familiarly  known  as  the  "  Master  of  the 
Rolls,"  one  of  the  heroes  whom  all  these  sporting 
blades  went  out  to  see  contend  for  victory  in  the 
ring,  died  so  recently  as  1871.  He  had  long- 
retired  from  the  P.R.,  and  had,  upon  quitting  it, 
followed  the  usual  practice  of  retired  pugilists, 
that  is  to  say,  he  became  a  publican.  He  was 
landlord  successively  of  the  "Crown"  at  Croydon, 
and  the  "  Horns  "  tavern,  Kennington. 

As  for  details  of  this  fight  or  that  upon  the  same 
spot,  from  which  Hickman  "  The  Gas-Light  Man," 
came  off  victor,  I  am  not  going  to  set  them  forth 
in  these  pages.  How  the  combatants  "  fibbed  "  and 
"  countered,"  and  did  other  things  whose  nomen- 
clature is  equally  abstruse  to  the  average  reader, 
you  may,  who  care  to,  read  in  the  pages  of  the 
enthusiastic  authorities  upon  the  subject,  who 
spare  you  nothing  of  all  the  blows  given  and 
received. 

But  while  on  the  subject  of  pugilism,  it  remains 
to  remark  upon  the  connection  of  it  and  its  ex- 
ponents with  Brighton  and  the  Brighton  Road. 
That  Bayard  of  the  Noble  Art,  the  "  Commander- 


loo  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

in-Chief"  of  the  prize-ring,  Gentleman  Jackson, 
commenced  his  fistic  career  npon  it  in  1 788,  when 
on  June  9  he  beat  Fewterel  at  Smitham  Bottom. 
Major  Hanger  rewarded  the  victor  with  a  bank- 
note from  the  enthusiastic  Prince  of  Wales. 

Tom    Sayers,  with   whom  died  the  reputation  of 
prize-fighting,  was  born   at  Brighton,  the  son  of  a 


PAST   AND   PRESENT — TWO   GENERATIONS   OP   ENGLISHMEN. 

man  descended  from  a  thoroughly  Sussexian  stock. 
He  was  not,  as  so  often  erroneously  stated,  an 
Irishman.  Indeed,  the  name  of  Sayers  is  one 
well  known  throughout  Sussex,  and  is  particularly 
frequent  at  Hurstpierpoint,  Hand  Cross,  and  Burgess 
Hill.  Sayers  Common,  indeed,  is  the  name  of  a 
hamlet    in    the    parish    of  Hurstpierpoint,   situated 


THIRD  DAY.  loi 

ou  the  road  to  Brighton  by  way  of  Albournc   and 
Hickstead. 

The  future  champion  of  England  was  born  at 
Brighton  in  1828,  and  worked  as  a  bricklayer  on 
the  Preston  viaduct  of  the  Brighton  and  Lewes 
Railway  at  its  building.  His  first  encounter  was 
near  Patcham,  at  Dale  Vale.     He  died  in  1865. 

This  was  fine  company,  you  will  say,  for  the 
Heir- Apparent  to  keep  here  at  Crawley  Downs  ; 
but  see  how  picturesque  the  Regent  rendered 
these  "  times,"  he  and  the  crowds  that  followed 
in  his  wake.  What  diversions  went  forward 
on  the  roads,  such  roads  as  they  were !  One 
chronicler  of  a  fight  here  says,  in  all  good  faith, 
that  on  the  morning  following  the  battle,  the 
remains  of  several  carriages,  phaetons,  and  other 
vehicles  were  found  bestrewing  the  narrow  ways 
in  which  they  had  collided  in  the  darkness. 

The  Plouse  of  Hanover  has  not  been  at  any  time 
largely  endowed  with  picturesqueness,  saving  only 
the  gruesome  picture  afforded  by  that  horrid  legend 
which  accounts  for  its  name  of  Guelph ;  but  the 
Regent  had  as  much  of  that  quality,  and  more, 
than  almost  any  other  of  his  family  :  more,  certainly, 
than  any  member  of  it  that  ever  reigned  in  this 
land.  The  reign  of  George  HI.  was  the  culmi- 
nation of  dulness  and  bourgeois  respectability  at 
Court,  from  whose  weary  routine  the  Prince's 
surroundings  were  entirely  different.  Himself  and 
his  entourage  were  dissolute  indeed,  roystering  in 
lawlesswise,  drinking,  cursing,  dicing  in  excess, 
visiting  prize-fights    on    these   Downs    of   Crawley, 


I02  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

and  hail  fellow,  well  met,  with  the  blackguards 
there  gathered  together.  But  whatever  his  sur- 
roundings, they  v/ere  never  dull,  for  which  saving 
grace  much  may  be  excused  the  memory  of  this 
peculiar  Prince. 

Thackeray,  in  his  "  Four  Georges,"  has  little  that 
is  pleasant  to  say  of  any  one  of  them ;  but  he  is 
astonishingly  severe  upon  this  last,  both  as  Prince 
and  King.  For  a  thorough-going  condemnation, 
commend  me  to  that  book.  To  the  faults  of 
George  IV.  the  author  is  very  wide-awake,  nor 
will  he  allow  him  any  virtues  whatsoever.  So 
bitter  is  he,  he  will  not  even  allow  him  to  be  a 
man,  as  witness  this  passage  : — "To  make  a  portrait 
of  him  at  first  sight  seemed  a  matter  of  small 
difficulty.  There  is  his  coat,  his  star,  his  wig,  his 
countenance  simpering  under  it :  with  a  slate  and 
a  piece  of  chalk,  I  could  at  this  very  desk  perform 
a  recognisable  likeness  of  him.  And  yet,  after 
reading  of  him  in  scores  of  volumes,  hunting  him 
through  old  magazines  and  newspapers,  having  him 
here  at  a  ball,  there  at  a  public  dinner,  there  at 
races,  and  so  forth,  you  find  you  have  nothing, 
nothing  but  a  coat  and  a  wig,  and  a  mask  smiling 
below  it ;  nothing  but  a  great  simulacrum." 

Poor  fat  Adonis ! 

And  yet  Thackeray  is  obliged  reluctantly  to  ac- 
knowledge the  grace  and  charm  of  the  detracted 
George  and  some  of  the  kind  acts  he  performed, 
although  at  these  last  he  sneers  consumedly,  because, 
forsooth,  those  thus  benefited  were  quite  humble 
persons.     It  was  not  without  reason  that  Thackeray 


THIRD  DAY.  103 

wrote  so  much  concerning  snobs  :  in  those  unworthy 
sneers  speaks  one  of  that  race. 

Here  is  a  curious  httle  item  of  praise  which  the 
author  of  the  "  Four  Georges  "  is  constrained  to  allow 
the  Regent  : — "Where  my  Prince  did  actually  dis- 
tinguish himself  was  in  driving.  He  drove  once  in 
four  hours  and  a  half  from  Brighton  to  Carlton 
House — fifty-six  miles."  ^ 

So  the  altogether  British  love  of  sport  compelled 
even  Thackeray,  who  set  out  upon  his  "Four  Georges" 
with  (so  to  speak)  a  mouth  filled  with  all  manner  of 
cursings  and  revilings,  to  concede  a  point  in  favour 
of  this  "  simulacrum." 

Unhappy  shade  of  him  that  wore  the  crown  !  I 
trust  (if  this-worldly  matters  come  within  the  ken 
of  the  other  world),  you  have  had  no  opportunities 
of  foregathering  with  your  scurril  essayist.  I  think 
it  unlikely,  though,  that  your  circles  la  has  are  very 
similar. 

But  Thackeray  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding,  I 
admire,  in  some  sort,  a  man  wdio  goes  whole-souled 
to  the  devil,  as  we  are  told  went  George  IV.,'  not, 
let  me  hasten  to  say,  by  reason  of  his  choice  of 
destination,  but  in  a  frank  appreciation  of  a  remark- 

^  A  slight  error  ou  tlie  ])art  of  Thackeray.     The  Prince  did  the 
journey  twice,  in  the  same  space  of  time.     He  rode  on  tlie  one  occasion 
to  Carlton  House,  and  d)-ove  on  the  other  to  the  Pavilion. 
-  "  George  the  First  was  reckoned  vile  ; 
Viler  George  the  Second  : 
Has  any  mortal  ever  heard 
Any  good  of  Geoi-ge  the  Third  : 
And  when  from  earth  the  Fourth  descended, 
Heavens  be  praised  !  the  Georges  ended  ! " 

— Leigh  Hunt. 


I04  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

able  single-heartedness  of  purpose.  Such  courses  are 
evil — granted  ;  but  they  are  eminently  picturesque. 

This  being  thus,  the  creator  of  "  Becky  Sharp " 
should  have  gratefully  recognised  a  character  ready 
to  the  novelist's  hand,  and  should  have  adapted  this 
lurid  career  to  the  purposes  of  his  art. 

But  then  Thackeray  was  ever  oppressively  moral. 
His  preachments,  even  in  "  Vanity  Fair,"  are  the 
inevitable  spots  on  the  sun  of  his  genius. 

Crawley  Down  is  in  these  days  a  quiet  hamlet, 
entirely  dissociated  from  pugilism.  It  lies  some 
miles  to  the  east  of  the  village  whose  name  it  bears, 
in  the  direction  of  Worth. 

But  Crawley  itself  was  recently  the  scene  of  a 
sporting  event  that  occasioned  a  very  great  deal  of 
interest.  The  Shrewsbury-Lonsdale  driving  match, 
driven  on  that  exceedingly  fiat  stretch  of  road  be- 
tween Eeigate  and  Crawley  on  iith  March  1891, 
was  one  of  the  most  important  matches  of  late  years. 
It  was  a  match  agreed  upon  between  the  Earl  of 
Lonsdale  and  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury  and  Talbot, 
with  the  object  of  settling  the  respective  merits  of 
trotting  and  galloping,  and  it  arose  out  of  a  discus- 
sion amongst  a  shooting  party  assembled  at  Ingestre 
in  the  previous  autumn.  A  wager  of  the  nominal 
value  of  ^100  was  laid  between  the  two  competitors 
about  the  covering  of  the  course  in  one  hour,  and 
each  one  was  to  drive  his  own  team.  The  course 
was  fixed  at  twenty  miles,  divided  equally  between 
the  four  recognised  methods  of  driving — four-in- 
hand,  pair,  single,  .and  postillion — and,  after  many 
different  roads  had  been  under  discussion,  the  referee, 


THIRD  DAY.  105 

Mr.  Arthur  Coventry,  decided  for  this,  than  which, 
probably,  no  better  course  could  have  been  selected. 
The  weather,  which  had  suddenly  become  very  wintry, 
greatly  interfered  with  arrangements  for  the  match, 
and  a  lengthy  despatch  of  verbal  messages,  telegrams, 
and  letters,  duly  published  in  sporting  and  other 
papers,  caused  misunderstanding  and  some  recrimi- 
nation between  the  two  competitors,  until  the  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury  declared  off  the  match  and  paid  his  ^100 
forfeit.  Lord  Lonsdale,  in  the  interests  of  sport, 
and  in  order  to  satisfy  the  public,  who  had  taken 
a  very  lively  interest  in  the  match,  about  which  a 
very  large  amount  of  money  had  been  wagered,  de- 
cided to  drive  over  the  course  alone,  and  justified  his 
belief  in  trotting  by  the  results  achieved. 

The  following  account  of  the  drive  is  taken  from 
the  Sportsman : — 

"  The  Earl  of  Lonsdale  was  a  disappointed  man 
when  he  learned  that  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury  and 
Talbot  had  paid  forfeit.  For  fully  eight  weeks  the 
head  of  the  House  of  Lowther  had  been  makins: 
extraordinary  preparations  for  the  driving  match 
between  himself  and  the  chairman  of  the  S.  and  T, 
Cab  Company.  Plis  experience  in  matters  pugilistic 
led  him  to  go  into  regular  training,  and  out  at  five 
o'clock  was  his  chief  order  of  the  day  for  some  time. 
Lord  Lonsdale  'trained,'  if  the  word  may  be  per- 
mittedj  at  Barley  Thorpe,  his  place  in  Rutlandshire, 
near  Oakham,  and  in  reply  to  the  inquiry  of  an 
ardent  supporter,  expressed  himself  '  as  fit  as  a  buck 
rat.'     Ccrtainlv   he  looked   in   excellent  trim   when 


io6  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

at  an  early  hour  he  made  his  appearance  at  break- 
fast at  the  'White  Hart'  at  Reigate.  It  was  expected, 
when  the  Newmarket  Heath  officials  refused  per- 
mission for  the  race  to  be  decided  on  their  grounds, 
that  a  road  in  Leicestershire  would  have  been 
selected.  Lord  Lonsdale  had  two  in  his  mind,  but 
on  Mr.  Arthur  Coventry,  the  referee,  fixing  on  the 
Reigate  road,  it  became  necessary  for  the  owner  of 
Barley  Thorpe  to  at  once  move  his  horses  and 
carriages  to  the  scene  of  action.  This  he  did  by 
means  of  a  special  train.  Altogether  fifteen  horses, 
as  many  men,  and  thirteen  carriages  were  trans- 
ported to  Reigate  at  enormous  expense,  the  cost  of 
maintaining  them  whilst  there  being  at  least  ^150  a 
day.  Lord  Shrewsbury's  stud  was  located  at  Cater- 
ham  close  by,  at  Mr.  Woodland's  place,  and  he  did 
not  need  any  special  trains. 

"  Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  on  the  Monday  morn- 
ing on  which  the  match  was  fixed  to  take  place. 
The  Earl  of  Lonsdale  thought  his  horses  should 
have  time  to  settle  themselves  after  their  special 
train  experiences,  and  obtained  a  postponement 
until  the  Tuesday.  When  that  morning  arrived. 
Lord  Shrewsbury's  cattle  were  snowed  up  in  their 
boxes,  and  everything  looked  against  the  proposed 
contest.  In  the  meantime  the  most  elaborate 
preparations  had  been  made.  Special  newspaper 
correspondents  journeyed  down  on  Sunday  night  to 
Reigate,  within  three  miles  of  where  the  race  was 
to  take  place,  and  a  number  of  members  of  the 
IMican  (Jlub  also  took  up  their  temporary  abode 
in  the   little   Surrey  town,  prominent  among  them 


THIRD  DAY.  107 

being  Mr.  Arthur  E.  Wells,  Captain  II.  I..  Beckett, 
Captain  Broadwood,  Major  Candy  (father  of  the 
Duchess  of  Newcastle),  and  many  others.  Flags 
manufactured  of  Lord  Lonsdale's  colours,  yellow 
and  blue,  had  been  prepared,  and  men  were  sent 
to  the  front  to  fix  them  up  in  their  allotted  places. 
Mr.  Arthur  Coventry  could  not  have  selected  a 
better  road  than  the  one  ultimately  settled  upon. 
A  five-miles  stretch  was  agreed  to,  this  being  on 
the  Reigate  road,  from  Kennersley  Manor,  Mr. 
Brocklehurst's  place,  three  miles  from  the  White 
Hart,  to  within  a  furlong  of  the  Sun  Inn  at  Crawley, 
and  about  half  a  mile  from  the  centre  of  the  latter 
named  village.  It  is  curious  here  to  notice  that 
Mr.  W.  Wragge,  who,  with  Mr.  Coulard,  of  Coulard 
and  Selby,  had  been  making  the  arrangements  for 
the  match,  chained  the  whole  five  miles  on  the 
Tuesday  morning  at  six  o'clock,  and  found  that  the 
milestones  were  wrong  in  several  instances.  As  may 
be  expected,  great  care  was  taken  that  the  road 
should  be  exactly  measured.  Just  now  we  said 
that  a  better  course  could  not  have  been  selected. 
This  is  borne  out  by  the  fact  that  for  years  past 
important  trotting,  walking,  and  running  matches 
have  been  decided  on  the  same  road.  At  Crawley 
we  met  an  ancient  resident  who  remembered  a  great 
time-test  affair,  in  which  a  horse  called  the  Ranger, 
belonging  to  Mr.  Bob  Percival,  was  backed  for  large 
sums  to  cover  three  miles  in  nine  minutes.  This 
feat  he  would  readily  have  accomplished  but  for  the 
fact  that  Mr.  Percival  was  anxious  not  to  expose 
his  animal's  form  too  much,  and  on  cutting  it  fine. 


io8  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

he  lost  by  three  seconds,  the  race  being  timed  by 
Mr.  'Ned'  Smith,  of  the  now  defunct  BelVs  Life. 
This  same  ancient  resident  had  seen  over  twenty 
prize-fights  in  the  same  district,  which  sport  he 
placed  on  the  same  level  as  trotting,  holding  the 
votaries  of  both  pastimes  to  be  on  the  same  level  of 
morality. 

"  Uncertainty  and  postponement  are  twin  enemies 
to  sport.  They  combined  to  work  destruction  to 
the  Shrewsbury-Lonsdale  driving  match,  but  happily 
were  not  altogether  successful.  Lord  Shrewsbury 
having  forfeited,  he  disappears  from  the  affair.  No 
sooner  did  Lord  Lonsdale  learn  the  position  of  affairs 
on  Tuesday  night,  than  he  determined,  at  all  hazards, 
to  give  the  public  a  show  for  their  money.  Indeed, 
after  the  trouble  and  expense  he  had  gone  to,  it 
would  have  been  a  lame  ending  to  leave  Reigate 
without  mounting  a  vehicle.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  Lord  Lonsdale  had  had  special  harness  made 
for  every  one  of  his  nine  horses,  this  being  light 
yet  strong,  whilst  not  a  single  one  of  his  carriages 
escaped  the  most  scrupulous  examination,  time  after 
time.  Accordingly  the  word  went  forth  that  he 
would  ride  over  the  course  just  to  prove  what  he 
really  could  do.  An  urgent  telegram  from  Mr. 
Arthur  E.  Wells,  who  knows  the  value  of  publicity, 
caused  a  Sportsman  reporter  to  breakfast  early,  in 
fact  at  half-past  six,  and  to  make  his  appearance  in 
frozen  condition  at  London  Bridge  Railway  Station 
just  before  eight  o'clock.  Everything,  in  the  im- 
mortal words  of  Mr.  Mantalini,  had  a  '  dem'd  moist 
unpleasant '  look.     The  streets  were  cold  and  pene- 


THIRD  DAY.  109 

trating-,  the  water  dripped  wearily  from  tlie  eaves, 
whilst  the  pavement  was  in  snch  a  state  that  one 
step  forward  meant  two  backward.  Two  Pelicans 
were  flapping-  their  wings  at  the  station,  and  pre- 
sently were  joined  by  Mr.  H.  L.  Beckett  in  attire 
whicli  may  be  dismissed  in  a  word  as  '  coachy.' 
Search  the  whole  world  over,  and  nothing  will  be 
found  to  approach  in  originality  of  design  and 
])icturesqueness  of  appearance  the  clothing,  from 
boot  to  brimmer,  worn  by  the  coaching  man  of  to- 
day. We  all  booked  to  Reigate,  and,  after  sundry 
shuntings,  arrived  there  about  half-past  nine.  The 
'  AA^hite  Hart '  was  within  easy  distance,  and  the 
coffee-room  at  once  became  a  subject  of  interest. 
To  one  whose  breakfast  had  consisted  of  a  hurried 
gaze  at  a  coffee-stall,  the  ham  and  eggs  at  the 
famous  old  hostelry  were  Avelcome  indeed.  Here 
must  be  mentioned  a  characteristic  incident.  No 
sooner  did  our  reporter,  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  set  foot  in  Reigate,  than  he  recalled  the  fact 
that  Mr.  Walter  W.  Read  was  born  there.  Not  to 
know  '  AV.  W.'  is  to  argue  oneself  unknown,  but  an 
unexpected  surprise  was  in  store.  Speak  of  angels 
and  their  wings  flutter.  Who  should  stroll  up  to 
the  station  as  we  emerged  but  the  identical  Mr.  W. 
AV.  himself,  quite  oblivious  of  the  coaching  match. 
Breakfast  over,  talk  turned  on  the  drive  to  be  under- 
taken by  Lord  Tonsdale. 

"  It  was  not  until  twelve  o'clock  that  the  party 
made  a  move  from  the  '  A\'hite  Hart '  to  the  scene 
of  action.  Brakes,  waggonettes,  and  carriages  were 
brought  round  to  the  entrance,  and  mounted  amidst 


no  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

the  open-mouthed  wonder  of  the  inhabitants.     Mr. 
Wells,  whose  first,  second,  third,  and  every  thought 
is  for  creature  comforts,  caused  a  nice  fat  hamper  to 
be  hoisted  into  his  conveyance,  which  conveyed  the 
Sportsman  representative  '  to  the  front.'     A  pleasant 
drive  it  was  in  all  respects.     The  snow-laden  foliage 
ghstened   in    the   pale  sun's    rays,   making   matters 
overhead  of  the   most  delightful   description.     The 
long  string  of  vehicles  was  followed  and  surrounded 
by  a  crowd  of  persons  interested  in  the  affair,  and 
slowly  made    its    way  along    the   Reigate    road  for 
about  three  miles.     At  length  we  came  to  Kenners- 
ley  Manor,  Mr.  Brocklehurst's  place,  almost  opposite 
the   gates    of  which,   on    either    side    of   the    road, 
were  posted  two  of  the  well-known  blue  and  yellow 
flags.      This,    then,    was    the    starting-place.      For 
nearly  a  mile  in  front  stretched  an  undulating  road, 
perfectly  clear  in  the  middle  from  a  vestige  of  snow. 
We  had  previously  learned  that  Lord  Lonsdale  had 
borrowed  the  snow-plough  from   the  Reigate  local 
authorities,    and     sent    it    over    the     course.      The 
result    exceeded     the    most    sanguine    expectations. 
As  much  of  the  road  as  was  required  was  perfectly 
clear,  and  the  going,  whilst  a  trifle  heavy,  was  much 
better  than  might  have  been  expected.     Most  of  the 
visitors  alighted  near  the  start,  but  others  preferred 
to  go  farther  on  before  pulling  up.     The  different 
vehicles  were  drawn   into   neighbouring  fields   and 
side   roads,   so   as  not  to  interfere  in   the  slightest 
manner  with  the  trial  which  was  to  take  place. 

"  The  Earl  of  Lonsdale,  with  whom  was  Mr.  Paget, 
drove   up   at    12.35   in  a  pair-horse   brougham,    but 


THIRD  DAY.  m 

it  was  not  until  tAventy-five  minutes  later  that  he 
sped    away   on    his    adventurous   journey.       It   will 
be    remembered   that    four   modes    of   driving   were 
to  be  employed — single-horse,  pair-horse,  team,  and 
postillion  fashion.     Accordingly  the  pair-horse  and 
the  postillion  buggy  were  sent  to  the  Crawley  end, 
five  miles  away,  the  char-a-banc  with   the  four-in- 
hand   being    drawn   up    in    close    contiguity   to    the 
starting-place.     His  Lordship,   who  was  dressed  in 
a  brown    covert    coat,    with   leather    breeches    and 
brown    Wellingtons     to    match,    took    his    seat    in 
the    single-horse    buggy    shortly    before    one,    when 
everything  was   in    readiness.     The   horse   was  the 
well-known  thoroughbred  War  Paint,  aged,  by  Uncas 
out  of  Toilette.     He  was  claimed  for  Lord  Lonsdale 
from   Mr.    C.   Lane  at  the   Dunstall  Park  Meetingr. 
It  is  stated  that  War  Paint  has  only  twice  been  in 
harness.     The  buggy — of  American  make — was  lent 
to  his  Lordship  by  Mr.   R.   K.  Fox   of  New  York. 
Its  construction  was  light  yet  strong,  and  a  small 
clock   was    placed    in    front    to    enable    the    driver 
to    see    how    he    was    getting    along.     It    may    be 
mentioned    that    it    was    synchronised    with    three 
other    clocks    placed    on    the    other    vehicles,    from 
which  fact  will  be   gathered   the  care  with  which 
each  minute  detail  was  attended  to.     Further,  each 
vehicle   contained   a  large  pair  of  blue   spectacles, 
and  these,  as  it  turned  out,  were  of  especial  value 
in  view  of  the  muddy  condition  of  the  roads. 

"Lord  Lonsdale  trotted  up  to  the  flags,  shouted 
to  the  timekeeper,  '  Are  you  ready  ? '  shook  the 
reins,   and    away   bounded    old    A^'ar   Paint   at  full 


112  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

gallop.  Save  for  a  big  crowd,  which  drew  back, 
the  road  was  quite  clear,  and  in  a  second  or  two 
the  buggy,  which  his  Lordship  was  keeping  straight 
as  an  arrow,  went  flying  over  the  hill.  It  should 
have  been  mentioned  that  a  couple  of  avant 
couriers  had  been  despatched  to  clear  the  way ; 
and  this  they  did  with  such  success,  that  no 
obstruction  was  met  with  until  nearly  reaching 
Crawley.  Then  a  brewer's  dray,  to  which  were 
attached  a  couple  of  horses,  tandem,  obstructed 
the  road.  Lord  Lonsdale  shouted,  and  the  driver 
did  his  best  to  clear  out  of  the  way,  but  the  leader 
becoming  restive,  it  caused  the  racer  to  lose  fully 
twenty  seconds.  This  will  account  for  the  com- 
paratively slow  time  accomplished  by  the  single 
horse,  the  time  on  reaching  the  flags  at  Crawley 
being  13  minutes  39!  seconds.  In  trials  his  Lord- 
ship had  done  the  five  miles  in  11  seconds  over  13 
minutes. 

The  pair-horse  was  in  waiting,  and  with  extra- 
ordinary celerity  the  driver  jumped  from  one  to 
the  other,  the  change  only  taking  three  seconds. 
In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  write  it,  the  return 
journey  was  commenced.  This  buggy  was  also 
from  New  York,  having  been  bought.  The  horses 
attached  were  two  American  trotters.  Blue  and 
Yellow,  a  pair  of  French  trotters  originally  in- 
tended not  being  used.  Just  at  the  start  of  the 
second  journey,  a  couple  of  policemen  made  a 
faint  protest,  but  did  not  actively  interfere,  and  the 
road  was  again  found  beautifully  clear.  Excellent 
progress   was    made  this    time,   and   a    great    cheer 


THIRD  DAY.  113 

went  up  as  the  vehicle  was  descried  in  the  distance 
from  the  starting-post.  At  breakneck  pace  up 
galloped  the  Americans,  steaming  hot,  making, 
with  Lord  Lonsdale,  all  mud-bespattered  and  blue 
spectacled,  driving,  a  remarkable  sight.  Quickly 
leaping  out,  he  ran  a  few  yards  and  mounted 
the  box  of  the  char-a-banc,  in  waiting  handy. 
The  second  journey  had  been  accomplished  in 
12  minutes  51I  seconds,  giving  26  minutes 
33I  seconds  for  the  ten  miles ;  and  now  every- 
thing pointed  to  a  record  of  under  one  hour  for 
the  complete  twenty  miles.  The  change  to  the 
coach,  one  by  Holland  &  Holland,  freighted  with 
two  grooms,  occupied  36I  seconds,  rather  longer 
than  at  the  other  end ;  and  here  occurred  the 
most  picturesque  scene  of  all. 

"  When  Lord  Lonsdale  mounted  the  coach,  it 
was  a  few  yards  behind  the  starting-post,  and 
whilst  his  Lordship  adjusted  his  position,  the  groom 
drove  the  coach.  A  yard  before  reaching  the 
proper  place,  the  chief  of  the  Lowthers  '  caught 
up,'  and  standing  on  the  box,  he  sent  the  team 
away  in  grand  style.  As  he  swept  by  the  crowd 
on  the  rise  a  hundred  yards  away,  a  chorus  of 
admiration  was  raised,  many  old  coaching  hands 
expressing  their  surprise  at  the  manner  in  which 
his  Jjordship  handled  the  reins.  He  had  a  splendid 
team,  supplied  him  by  Mr.  W.  AA'ragge  of  White- 
chapel.  The  leaders  were  thoroughbred  geldings. 
Silk  (near)  and  Everton  King ;  the  wheelers  being 
Conservative  and  Whitechapcl.  Again  the  road 
was  all  clear,  and  this  journey  Crawley  was  reached 

H 


114  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD, 

in  15  minutes  9I  seconds,  the  slowest  of  the  four, 
as  was  to  be  expected.  Last  of  all  was  the 
change  to  the  postillion  fashion.  The  change  took 
4O5-  seconds,  the  reason  being  that  Lord  Lonsdale 
had  to  strip  off  his  covert  coat,  jacket,  and  hat 
before  mounting.  In  the  vehicle  attached,  made 
by  Benny  of  New  York,  sat  a  groom,  whose  face, 
by  the  way,  was  in  a  dreadful  condition  of 
muddiness  by  the  finish  of  the  gallop.  On  Draper, 
a  chestnut  gelding,  Lord  Lonsdale  rode,  the  other 
being  Violetta,  a  bay  mare.  Little  need  be  said 
about  the  fourth  and  last  ride.  At  full  tilt  it 
was  carried  on  throughout,  and  when  the  flags 
were  reached,  the  five  miles  had  been  covered  in 
13  minutes  55I  seconds.  The  time  for  the  full 
distance,  including  changes,  was  56  minutes  551 
seconds." 

Thus  ended  the  long-talked- of  Shrewsbury-Lons- 
dale driving  match  ;  but  the  matter  cropped  up  again 
on  2ist  March  at  the  Horsham  Police  Court,  to 
which  tribunal  the  Earl  of  Lonsdale  was  summoned 
"  for  driving  furiously,  to  the  danger  of  the  public." 
The  summons  was  eventually  dismissed,  after  the 
chairman  of  the  magisterial  bench  had  expressed  an 
opinion  to  the  effect  that  the  public  highway  is  not 
a  fit  place  for  use  as  a  racecourse  ;  but  not  before 
the  constable-witnesses  had  played  the  parts  of 
buffoons  in  the  comedy.     As  thus  : — 

Mr.  Wightman  \^'^ood  (appearing  for  Lord  Lons- 
dale) to  constable  giving  evidence — 


THIRD  DAY.  115 

"  You  have  said  the  horse  was  going  as  fast  as  he 
could.     Are  you  a  judge  of  horses  ?  " 

Witness. — "No,  sir." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  a  horse  go  as  fast  as  it 
could  ? " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  You  don't  know  how  fast  a  horse  can  go  ? " 

"  No." 

"You  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  road.  Why 
was  that :  to  be  run  over  ? " 

"  No,  I  took  care  to  get  out  of  the  way — 
(Laughter)  —  our  endeavour  to  stop  Lord  Lons- 
dale was  confined  to  throwing  up  our  arms.  We 
took  care  to  get  out  of  the  way  before  he  reached 
the  point  where  we  were  standing.  We  were 
not  going  to  stand  there  to  be  run  over."^ 
(Laughter.) 

"  A  groom  followed  his  Lordship,  I  believe  ? " 

"Yes." 

"  And  another  came  in  front,  a  sort  of  pilot- 
engine  ? "     (Laughter.) 

"Yes." 

The  Brighton  Road  has  ever  been  a  course  upon 
which  the  enthusiastic  exponents  of  diflferent  methods 
of  progression  have  eagerly  exhibited  their  prowess. 
But  to-day,  although  the  road  affords  as  good  going 
as,  or  better  than,  ever,  it  is  not  so  suitable  as  it  was 
for  these  displays  of  speed.  Traffic  has  grown  with 
the  growth  of  villages  and  townships  along  these 
fifty-two  miles,  and  sport  and  public  convenience 
are,  on  the  liighway,  antipathetic.     Yet  every  kind 


ii6  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

of  sport  has  its  will  of  the  road.  Pedestrians, 
with  others,  find  the  London  to  Brighton  records 
alluring,  and  walking  matches  are  by  no  means 
infrequent  here.  The  best  performance  in  this 
division  of  athletics  on  this  road  remains  to  the 
credit  of  the  late  J.  A.  M'Intosh  of  the  London 
Athletic  Club,  who,  on  April  lo,  1886,  walked 
down  in  9  hours  25  minutes  8  seconds,  beating 
the  record  of  9  hours  48  minutes  established  by 
C.  L.  O'Malley  in  1884,  on  the  occasion  of  a  match 
with  B.  Nickels,  who  conceded  30  minutes  start, 
a  handicap  which,  the  result  proved,  should  have 
been  reversed. 

Callow  finished  second  to  M'Intosh  on  the  re- 
cord walk,  his  time  being  10  hours  14  minutes  6 
seconds. 

On  20th  March  1891,  E.  Cuthbertson  walked 
from  London  to  Brighton  in  10  hours  6  minutes  18 
seconds,  winning  two  wagers,  that  (i)  he  could 
not  beat  J.  Chinnery's  performance  of  1 1  hours 
15  minutes;  and  (2)  that  he  could  not  do  the 
distance  between  Hatchett's  Hotel  and  the  "  Old 
Ship "  inside  twelve  hours.  At  the  same  time  H. 
K.  Paxton  walked  from  "  Hatchett's  "  to  the 
"  Greyhound,"  Croydon,  in  i  hour  43  minutes  2)7 
seconds. 

The  Prince  of  Wales  on  July  25,  1784,  on  the 
occasion  of  his  second  visit  to  Brighthelmstone, 
mounted  his  horse  there  and  rode  to  and  from  Lon- 
don on  that  day.  He  went  by  way  of  Cuckfield,  and 
was  ten  hours  on  the  road,  four  and  a  half  hours 
going,  five  and  a  half  hours  returning.     On  the  21st 


THIRD  DAY.  117 

of  August  in  the  same  year  he  drove  from  Carlton 
House  to  the  "  Pavilion  "  in  four  hours  and  a  half. 
The  turn-out  was  a  phaeton  drawn  by  three  horses 
harnessed  tandem-fashion. 

These  feats  were  surpassed  by  "  Mr."  Webster,  of 
the  loth  Light  Dragoons,  in  May  1809.  He  accepted 
and  won  a  wager  of  300  to  200  guineas  with  Sir  B. 
Graham  about  the  performance  in  three  and  a  half 
hours  of  the  journey  from  Brighton  to  Westminster 
Bridge,  mounted  upon  one  of  the  blood  horses  that 
usually  ran  in  his  phaeton.  He  accomplished  the 
ride  in  three  hours  twenty  minutes,  knocking  the 
Prince's  record  into  the  proverbial  cocked  hat.  The 
rider  stopped  a  while  at  Reigate  to  take  a  glass  or 
two  of  wine,  and  compelled  his  horse  to  swallow 
the  remainder  of  the  bottle. 

This  spirited  affair  was  preceded  in  April  i  793  by 
a  curious  match  which  seems  to  deserve  mention. 
A  clergyman  at  Brighton  betted  an  officer  of  the 
Artillery  quartered  there  100  guineas  that  he  would 
ride  his  own  horse  to  London  sooner  than  the  officer 
could  go  in  a  chaise  and  pair,  the  officer's  horses  to 
be  changed  en  route  as  often  as  he  might  think 
proper.  The  Artilleryman  accordingly  despatched 
a  servant  to  provide  relays,  and  at  twelve  o'clock 
on  an  unfavourable  night  the  parties  set  out  to 
decide  the  bet,  which  was  won  by  the  clergyman 
with  difficulty.  He  arrived  in  town  at  5  a.m.,  only 
a  few  minutes  before  the  chaise,  which  it  had  been 
thought  was  sure  of  winning.  The  driver  of  the 
last  stage,  however,  nearly  became  stuck  in  a  ditch, 
which    mishap    caused    considerable    delay.       The 


ii8  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

Cuckfield  driver  ran  his  stage  to  Crawley,  nine 
miles,  within  the  half  hour. 

In  later  years,  on  ist  January  1888,  a  trotting 
match  against  time  was  made  from  London  to 
Brighton,  when  the  horse  "  Ginger "  won  ;  time, 
4  hours  16  minutes  30  seconds.  Another  horse, 
"  The  Bird,"  trotted  from  Kennington  Cross  to 
Brighton  in  4  hours  30  minutes.^ 

And  so  an  end  to  these  sporting  reflections  at 
Crawley,  the  half-way  house,  as  it  were,  of  a  sporting 
road. 

Rowlandson  has  preserved  for  us  in  one  of  his 
drawings  a  view  of  Crawley  as  he  saw  it  in  1789. 
It  was  published  with  a  few  others  just  a  hundred 
years  ago  in  that  intolerable  work  of  Henry  Wig- 
stead's,  "An  Excursion  to  Brighthelmstone  in  1789," 
a  work  of  the  dreadfullest  ditchwater  dulness,  saved 
only  from  oblivion  by  the  artist's  illustrations.  That 
they  should  have  lived,  you  who  see  this  reproduction 
of  Crawley  will  not  wonder. 

Passing  southward  along  the  rising  street,  you 
leave  on  the  left  hand  the  grey  church-tower,  and 
presently  pass  over  the  abomination  of  a  railway 
crossing  on  the  road-level  that  renders  the  road 
always  unsightly  and  often  dangerous.  Of  the 
church,  one  who  lives  not  at  Crawley,  and  waits 
not  upon  its  opening  for  services,  can  say  little,  for 
its  doors  are  at  other  times  rigidly  locked.  All  that 
can  be  done  is  to  poach  upon  the  preserves  of  one's 
Murray,  and  cite  him  to   the  effect  that  upon  one 

^  It  seems  well  to  place  these  records  in  taljulated  form  (p.  119)  for 
readier  reference : — 


THIRD  DAY. 
SOME  BRIGHTON  ROAD  RECORDS. 


119 


Date. 

Time. 

h. 

m. 

s. 

1784,  July  25. 

Prince    of    Wales    rode    horse    back    from 

"  Pavilion  "  to  Carlton  Huu.se,  . 

10 

0 

0 

Going,        ...... 

4  30 

0 

Returning,           ..... 

5  30 

0 

,,    Aug.  21. 

Prince     of    Wales     drove     phaeton,    three 
horses  tandem -wise,  Carlton  House  to 

"Pavilion,"    ...... 

4  30 

0 

1S09,  May. 

"  Mr."  Webster,  of  loth  Light  Dragoons,  rode 
hor.seback,     Brighton    to    Westminster 

Bridge,  ....... 

3 

20 

0 

1834,  Feb.  4. 

"  Criterion  "  Coach,  London  to  Brighton,     . 

3  40 

0 

1869,     ,,      17. 

John  Mayall,  jun.,  rode  on  velocipede  from 

Trafalgar  Square  to  Brighton,  (about)    . 

12 

0 

0 

1884. 

C.    L.   O'Malley   walked    from   Westminster 

Clock  Tower  to  Aquarium,  Brighton,    . 

9 

48 

0 

1886,  April  10. 

J.    A.    M'Intosh   walked   from  Westminster 

Clock  Tower  to  Aquarium,  Brighton,     . 

9 

25 

8 

1 888,  Jan.  i. 

Horse  "  Ginger  "  trotted  to  Brighton,  . 

4 

16 

30 

„     July  13. 

James    Selby   drove    "  Old    Times "    Coach 
from  "Hatchetfs,"'  Piccadillj',  to  "Old 

Ship,"  Brighton,  and  back,    . 

7 

5? 

0 

Going,         ...... 

3 

56 

0 

Returning,           ..... 

3 

54 

0 

„    Aug.  10. 

Team   of  four   cyclists,  E.  J.   Willis,  G.  L. 
Morris,  S.  C.   Schafer,  and  S.  Walker, 
dividing    the    distance    between    them, 
cycled  from  "  Hatchetfs,"  Piccadill3',  to 

I 

"Old  Ship,"  Brighton,  and  back,  . 

7 

36 

19I 

1890,  Mar.  30. 

Another  team,  J.  F.  Shute,  T.  W.  Girling, 
K.  Wilson,   and   A.  E.  Griffin,  reduced 

first  team's  time  by  4  min.  19^  sees. 

7 

32 

0 

,,    April  13. 

Another  team,  E.  and  W.  Scantlebury,  W.  W. 

Arnott,  and  .T.  Blair,  reduced  the  time  to 

7 

25 

15     ' 

,,    June. 

F.  W.   Shorlaiid  cycled  from   "  Hatchetfs  " 

to  "  Old  Ship  "  and  back, 

7 

19 

0 

,,    July  23. 

S.    F.    Edge  cycled   froni    '"  Hatchett's "    to 

"  Old  Ship  "  and  back,   .... 

7 

2 

50 

„    Sept.    3. 

C.    A.   Smith   cycled  from  "  Hatchett's "  to 

"  Old  Ship  "  and  back,    .... 

6 

52 

10 

,,      ,,       30- 

E.    P.     Moorhouse    cycled    [trycyle]    from 

"Hatchetfs"  t  .  "Old  Sliip  "  and  back, 

8 

9 

24 

1 89 1,  Mar.  20. 

E.  Cuthbertson  walked   from  "  Hatchett's " 

to  "  Old  Ship," 

10 

6 

18 

1892,  June    I. 

S.   F.   Edge   cycled    from    "Hatchett's"   to 

Notc.—TY^e  fa 

"  Old  Ship  "  and  back,  .... 

6 

51 

7 

stest  L.  B.  &  S.  C.  R.  train,  the  5.0  p.m.  Pul- 

man  Exp 

ress  from  London  Bridge,  reaches  Brighton  at 

6.5  P.M. 

I 

5 

0 

120  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

of  the  tie  beams  of  its  curious  open-timbered   roof 
is  carved  the  inscription  in  old  English  characters  : — 

"  jjKan  gn  iude  ieinar,  for  toarllilg  pob  maikotfj  man  WxCQz 
Bftoar  bcfor,  iofjatc  comotJj  ticlfjgnlir." 

Also  the  church  contains  two  brasses,  and  its 
architecture  is  Decorated  and  Perpendicular.  This 
last  you  can  gather  from  a  glance  at  the  exterior ; 
for  the  rest,  original  impressions  are  for  the  passing 
stranger  impossible. 

Now  come  we  in  less  than  an  hour  to  Hog's  Hill, 
where  the  modern  coach-guard  regales  his  passengers 
with  apocryphal  tales  as  to  the  derivation  of  that 
name,  and  from  Hog's  Hill  it  is  but  a  matter  of 
another  mile  and  a  quarter  or  thereby  to  Pease 
Pottage  Gate,  whose  etymology  is  equally  un- 
certain. 

Rash  folk  there  be  to  whom  this  striking,  if 
homely,  name  offers  all  the  charms  of  a  conundrum, 
and  they  will  give  you  essays  many  and  varied  as 
to  its  derivation.  I  do  not  propose,  however,  to 
venture  a  theory  of  my  own.  Let  it  suffice  to  quote 
others  to  the  effect  that  in  the  old  route-marching 
times  the  Tommy  Atkins  of  the  day  was  halted  here 
and  regaled  upon  "  pease-pottage,"  a  name  for  pease- 
pudding,  I  take  it,  as  nearly  poetic  as  that  eminently 
prosaic  compost  admits. 

Or,  again,  the  gossips  say  that  prisoners  on  their 
way  for  trial  at  the  Assizes,  holden  at  Horsham 
and  East  Grinstead  alternately,  were  conveyed  in 
wagons  between  the  two  places,  and  were  rested 
here  and  given  each  a  bowl  of  pease-pottage.    It  may 


THIRD  DAY.  121 

be  shrewdly  suspected  that  these  explanations  are 
the  wildest  guesses  at  the  solution  of  a  tempting 
puzzle  ;  but  who  will  have  the  courage  to  adventure 
a  theory  as  to  the  name  of  the  neighbouring  hamlet 
of  Warninglid  ? 

Right  away  from  here  to  Hand  Cross  the  road 
is  bordered  and  shaded  by  the  most  delightful  of 
forest  greenery,  and  indeed  the  highway  seems  not 
so  much  a  public  as  a  private  road  through  some 
lordly  park.  The  hedges  are  frequently  of  laurel 
and  other  evergreen  shrubs.  The  white  track  of 
roadway,  too,  is  bordered  by  a  dainty  edging  of  grass 
neatly  kept. 

Half  a  mile  after  passing  the  thirty-second  mile- 
stone, on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  road,  is  a  rather 
singular  sight — a  beech  and  an  oak  growing  out  of 
one  trunk.  Shortly  after  passing  this  you  come  to 
a  settlement  of  a  few  houses  set  down  beside  the 
road  in  a  clearing  of  the  forest,  Tilgate  Forest  Row, 
so  called.  St.  Leonard's  and  Tilgate  forests,  or  their 
remains,  line  the  way  for  some  miles  until  you  come, 
past  the  spectre-haunted  laurel  hedges  near  Hand 
Cross  Park,  to  Hand  Cross  itself. 

The  Hand  Cross  ghost  is,  by  all  accounts,  an  ex- 
tremely eccentric  but  harmless  spook,  with  peculiar 
notions  in  the  matter  of  clothes,  and  given,  in  days 
when  the  turnpike  gate  stood  here,  to  Egyptian- 
Hall-like  tricks  with  bolts  and  bars,  whereby  pike- 
men  were  not  only  scared,  but  were  the  losers 
of  sundry  tolls.  But  still,  a  harmless  wraith,  and 
(evidently)  the  wayfarers'  friend. 

Hand    Cross    is    a   settlement    of    forty,    perhaps 


122  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

fifty  houses,  situated  on  the  borders  of  this  delight- 
ful land  of  forests,  where  several  roads  meet.  Its 
name  clearly  derives  from  this  convenient  position, 
and  antiquarians  have  a  theory  that  a  combination 
of  wayside-cross  and  direction-post  anciently  found 
here,  and  indeed  throughout  the  country,  during 
pre-Reformation  times,  originated  the  name.  These 
posts  were  furnished  with  a  pointing  hand  at  the 
end  of  the  directing  arm ;  hence  their  generic 
names,  "  finger-post,"  "  hand-post,"  and  here,  in  com- 
bination with  the  votive  cross  or  shrine,  "hand- 
cross." 

From  this  friendly  arm,  erected  for  guidance 
and  devotion  on  the,  at  that  time,  lonely  roads, 
springs  this  offshoot  of  Slaugham  village.  We 
may  see,  in  imagination,  how  the  hamlet  grew 
from  a  mere  halting-place  on  the  old  "fly- wagon" 
route  through  Sussex,  before  the  Brighthelmstone 
stage-coach  was ;  before,  indeed,  the  new-grown 
popularity  of  that  fishing-village  had  caused  a  direct 
road  to  be  constructed  to  it  from  London.  We 
may  conceive  its  progress  through  the  early  days 
of  the  coaching  era  to  the  present  time,  increasing 
always  in  importance,  until,  when  steam  came 
to  depose  road-travel  utterly  for  a  time,  the  place 
was  of  greater  consideration  than  its  parent  village, 
dozing  away  on  a  road  that  leads  to  nowhere  in 
particular. 

It  is  its  being  on  the  main  road,  and  on  the 
junction  of  several  routes,  that  has  made  Hand 
Cross  what  it  is  to-day ;  though  that  condition, 
speaking  with    the    voice    of  the   tourist,   may  not 


THIRD  DAY.  123 

be  altogether  pleasing  to  the  eye ;  for,  after  all, 
it  is  a  parvenu  of  a  place,  and  lacks  the  Domesday 
descent  of,  for  instance,  Cuckfield.  Now,  the 
parve7iu,  the  man  of  his  hands,  may  be  a  very 
estimable  fellow,  but  his  raw  prosperity  grates 
upon  the  nerves.  So  it  is  with  Hand  Cross,  for 
its  prosperity,  which  has  not  waned  with  the 
coaching  era,  has  incited  to  the  building  of  many 
houses,  cottages  of  that  cheap  and  yellow  brick 
we  know  so  well  and  loathe  so  much.  Also, 
though  there  is  no  church,  there  are  two  chapels  ; 
one  of  retiring  position,  the  other  conventicle  of 
aggressive  and  red,  red  brick.  One  could  find 
it  in  one's  heart  to  forgive  the  yellow  brick ;  but 
this  red,  never.  In  this  lurid  building  is  a  har- 
monium. On  Sundays,  the  wail  of  that  instrument 
and  the  hooting  and  ting,  tinging  of  cyclorns  and 
cycling  gongs,  as  cyclists  foregather  by  the  "Red 
Lion,"  are  the  most  striking  features  of  the  place. 

The  "Red  Lion"  though,  (alas!  that  I  should 
say  it !)  is  of  greater  interest  than  all  other 
buildings  at  Hand  Cross.  It  stood  here  in  receipt 
of  coaching  custom  through  all  those  roystering 
days,  as  it  stands  now,  prosperous  at  the  hands 
of  another  age  of  wheels.  What  does  my  Shcrgold 
say  of  it,  but  that  its  landlords  in  olden  times  knew 
more  of  smuggling  than  what  came  by  hearsay. 

And  at  Hand  Cross  the  ways  divide.  The  cyclist 
who  knows  his  Brighton  Road,  and  who,  I  am 
afraid,  cares  more  for  smoothness  and  easy  gradients 
than  for  scenery  or  associations,  goes  more  fre- 
quently   by    the     Hickstead    and    Albourne    route 


124  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

than  by  the  left-hand  road,  which  includes  such 
hills  as  the  one  that  leads  down  to  Staplefield 
Common  immediately  after  leaving  Hand  Cross, 
and  that  famous  hill  at  Clayton,  of  which  more 
later. 

But  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should  follow  in 
the  track  of  the  wheelman,  who  is  ever  easefuUy  in- 
clined; there  are  cogent  considerations,  indeed,  which 
urge  to  the  other  course,  for  by  following  the  course 
of  that  pneumatic  pilgrim,  Cuckfield,  that  delight- 
ful old  town,  would  be  missed,  to  speak  of  that 
place  alone.  So  let  us  away  down  Hand  Cross  Hill, 
past  that  gnarled  and  eccentric-looking  fir-tree  that 
overhangs  the  road  in  so  astonishing  a  manner, 
as  striking  a  landmark  as  ever  earned  a  glance 
by  day  or  caused  a  delightful  sensation  of  "creeps" 
o'  nights.  There  is  an  unexplainably  bodeful 
effect  to  be  experienced  in  passing  under  this 
fantastic  growth.  When  the  sun  has  set,  its  re- 
markable form  looms  overhead  like  some  gigantic 
outstretched  hand,  ready  and  willing  to  crush,  as 
the  veriest  blackbeetle,  the  pun}  wayfarer. 

Going  down  the  hillside,  there  opens  as  fine  a  view 
over  the  Weald  as  you  could  wish,  bounded  by  the 
blue  barrier  of  the  South  Downs,  with  an  enchanting 
middle-distance  of  copses,  cottages,  and  winding 
roads,  and,  nearer,  the  sparkle  of  Slaugham  mill- 
pond  ;  while  in  the  foreground  is  Staplefield  Place, 
with  lodge-gate  beside  the  road,  and  white-capped 
Equatorial  amid  the  trees.  Now  you  come  upon 
Staplefield  Common,  bisected  by  the  highway,  with  its 
group  of  recent  cottages  and  modern  church.     There 


^     Ay    « 


\  ^~ 


'^-^ 


THIRD  DAY.  125 

is  an  Elizabethan-like  spaciousness  about  the  place 
for  all  the  modernity  of  its  few  buildings  :  it  is  the 
elbow-room  remaining  that  gives  the  effect.  Staple- 
field  is,  unlike  St.  John's  Common,  what  its  name 
implies.  Here  you  do  not  expect  an  open  space, 
and  find  instead  a  jostling  town,  as  will  hap  further 
on  the  way.  hard  by  Burgess  Hill. 

Staplefield  stands,  with  Hand  Cross,  in  the  parish 
of  Slaugham.  If,  being  a  stranger,  you  inquire 
the  way  to  that  village,  pronouncing  its  name  as 
spelled,  it  is  probable  you  will  not  be  understood 
of  the  natives.  "  Slaffam,"  on  the  other  hand,  wins 
instant  recognition,  and  the  direction  will  be  along 
the  right-hand  pathway.  Half  a  mile  along  a  leafy 
lane  leads  to  the  Hickstead  route  to  Brighton, 
crossing  the  bye-road  at  right  angles,  and  just  be- 
yond, to  the  left  hand,  in  a  watery  meadow,  stand 
the  ruins  of  Slaugham  Place,  the  deserted  home  of 
the  Coverts,  a  vanished  family,  once  among  the 
most  powerful,  as  they  were  of  the  noblest,  in  the 
county. 

The  Coverts  were  of  Norman  descent.  They,  to 
use  a  well-worn  phrase,  "  came  over  with  the  Con- 
queror ;  "  but  it  is  not  until  toward  the  close  of  the 
fifteenth  century  that  they  are  found  settled  at 
Slaugham.  They  were  preceded  as  lords  of  this 
manor  by  the  Poynings  of  Poynings,  and  by  the 
Berkeleys  and  Stanleys.  Sir  Walter  Covert,  to  whose 
ancestors  the  manor  fell  by  marriage,  was  the  builder 
of  the  Slaugham  Place  whose  ruins  still  remain  to 
show  the  almost  palatial  character  of  his  conception. 
They  cover  within  their  enclosing  walls  of  red  brick, 


126  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

which  rise  from  the  yet  partly  filled  moat,  over  three 
acres  of  what  is  now  orchard  and  meadow-land.  In 
spring-  the  apple  trees  bloom  pink  and  white  amid 
the  grey  and  lichen- stained  ashlar  of  the  ruined 
walls  and  arches  of  Palladian  architecture ;  the 
lush  grass  grows  tall  around  the  cold  hearths  of 
the  roofless  rooms.  The  noble  gateway  leads  now, 
not  from  courtyard  to  hall,  but  doorless,  with  its 
massive  stones  wrenched  apart  by  clinging  ivy, 
stands  merely  as  some  sort  of  key  to  the  enigma  of 
ground  plan  presented  by  w-alls  ruinated  in  greater 
part  to  the  level  of  the  watery  turf. 

The  singular  facts  of  high  wall  and  moat  sur- 
rounding a  mansion  of  Jacobean  build  seem  to  point 
to  an  earlier  building,  contrived  with  these  defences 
when  men  thought  first  of  security  and  afterwards 
of  comfort.  Some  few  mullioned  window^s  of  much 
earlier  date  than  the  greater  part  of  the  mansion 
remain  to  confirm  the  thought. 

That  a  building  of  the  magnificence  attested  by 
these  crumbling  walls  should  have  been  allowed  to 
fall  into  decay  so  shortly  after  its  completion  is  a 
singular  fact.  Though  the  male  line  of  the  Coverts 
failed,  and  their  estates  passed  by  the  marriage  of 
their  w^omankind  into  other  hands,  yet  their  aliena- 
tion would  not  necessarily  imply  the  destruction  of 
their  roof-tree.  The  explanation  is  to  be  sought 
in  the  situation  and  qualities  of  the  ground  upon 
which  Slaugham  Place  stood,  a  marshy  tract  of  land, 
which  no  builder  of  to-day  would  think  of  selecting 
as  a  site  for  so  important  a  dwelling,  home  as  it  is 
of  swamps  and  damps,  and,   quashy   as   it   is   even 


THIRD  DAY.  127 

now,  it  must  have  been  in  the  past  the  breeding- 
ground  of  agues  and  chills  innumerable.  Indeed, 
from  near  by  three  rivers,  the  Arun,  the  Adur,  and 
the  Sussex  Ouse,  take  their  rise.  Slaugham,  in 
fact,  derives  its  name  from  the  mires  and  bogs  and 
"  sloughs  "  of  its  river-bearing  lands. 

A  true  exemplar  this  of  that  Sussex  of  which  in 
1690  a  barrister  on  circuit,  whose  profession  led  him 
by  evil  chance  into  this  county,  writes  to  his  wife  : — 
"  The  Sussex  ways  are  bad  and  ruinous  beyond 
imagination.  I  vow  'tis  melancholy  consideration 
that  mankind  will  inhabit  such  a  heap  of  dirt  for 
a  poor  livelihood.  The  county  is  in  a  sink  of  about 
fourteen  miles  broad,  which  receives  all  the  water 
that  falls  from  the  long  ranges  of  hills  on  both 
sides  of  it,  and  not  being  furnished  'vvith  convenient 
draining,  is  kept  moist  and  soft  by  the  water  till 
the  middle  of  a  dry  summer,  which  is  only  able  to 
make  it  tolerable  to  ride  for  a  short  time." 

Such  soft  and  shaky  earth  as  this  could  not 
bear  the  weight  of  so  ponderous  a  structure  as 
was  Slaugham  Place :  the  swamps  pulled  its  masoniy 
apart  and  rotted  its  fittings.  Despairing  of  victory 
over  the  reeking  moisture,  its  owners  left  it  for 
healthier  sites.  Then  the  rapacity  of  all  those 
neighbouring  folk  who  had  need  of  building 
material  completed  the  havoc  wrought  by  natural 
forces,  and  finally  Slaugham  Place  became  what 
it  is  to-day.  Its  clock-tower  was  pulled  down 
and  removed  to  Cuckfield  Park,  where  it  now 
spans  the  entrance  drive  of  that  romantic  spot ; 
its    handsomely    carved    Jacobean    stairway    is    to- 


128  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

day  the  pride  and  glory  of  the  "Star"  Hotel  at 
Lewes. 

The  Coverts  are  gone ;  their  heraldic  shields, 
in  company  of  an  architectural  frieze  of  grey- 
hounds' and  leopards'  heads  and  skulls  of  oxen 
wreathed  in  drapery,  still  decorate  what  remains 
of  the  north  front  of  their  mansion,  and  their 
achievements  are  repeated  upon  their  tombs  within 
the  little  church  of  Slaugham  on  the  hillside.  You 
may,  if  heraldically  versed,  learn  from  their  quarter- 
ings  into  what  families  they  married ;  but  the 
deeds  which  they  wrought,  and  their  virtues  and 
their  vices,  are,  for  the  most  part,  clean  forgotten, 
even  as  their  name  is  gone  out  of  the  land  who 
once,  as  tradition  has  it,  travelled  southward  from 
London  to  the  sea  on  their  own  manors. 

The  squat,  shingled  spirelet  of  Slaugham  Church 
and  its  Decorated  architecture  mark  the  spot  where 
many  of  this  knightly  race  lie  buried.  In  the 
Covert  Chapel  is  the  handsome  brass  of  John 
Covert,  who  died  in  1 503  ;  and  in  the  north  wall 
of  the  chancel  is  the  canopied  altar-tomb  of  Richard 
Covert,  the  much-married,  who  died  in  1547,  and 
is  represented,  in  company  of  three  of  his  four 
wives,  by  little  brass  effigies,  together  with  a  curious 
brass  representing  the  Saviour  rising  from  the 
tomb,  guarded  by  armed  knights  of  weirdly- 
humorous  aspect,  the  more  diverting  because  exe- 
cuted all  innocent  of  joke  or  irreverence.  Here 
is  a  rubbing,  nothing  exaggerated,  of  one  of  these 
guardian  knights,  to  bear  me  up. 

Another  Richard,  but  twice  married,  who  died  in 


THIRD  DAY. 


129 


1579.   is    commemorated   in  a  large    and    elaborate 
monument    in    the    Covert    Chapel,    whereon    are 
sculptured,    in    an 
attitude     of    prayer, 
Richard  himself,  his 
two  wives,  six  sons, 


and  eight  daughters. 

Last  of  the  Coverts 
whose  name  is  perpe- 
tuated here  is  Jane, 
who  deceased  in  1586. 

Beside  these  things, 
Slaugham  claims 
some  interest  as  con- 
taining the  mansion 
of  Ashfold,  where 
once  resided  Mrs. 
Matcham,  a  sister 
of  Lord  Nelson's.  Indeed,  it  was  while  stay- 
ing here  that  the  Admiral  received  the  summons 
which  sped  him  on  his  last  and  most  glorious  and 
fatal  voyage.  Slaugham,  too,  with  St.  Leonard's 
Forest,  contributes  a  title  to  the  peerage.  Lord 
St.  Leonards'  creation  being  of  "  Slaugham,  in  the 
county  of  Sussex." 

And  now  to  return  to  Staplefield,  and  thence 
to  make  along  the  three  miles  of  highway,  past 
Slough  Green  and  Whiteman's  Green  to  Cuckfield. 
Passing  the  new  and  magnificent  mansion  of  Holm- 
stead  on  the  right  hand,  the  road  rises  sharpl} 
commanding  views  over  the  Ouse  Valley  toward 
Balcombe   and  Ardingly,  where  the   Ouse   Ivailway 


FKOM   A   BRASS  AT   SLAUGHAM. 


I30  •    THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

viaduct  stalks  with  gaunt  brick  arches  across  the 
meadows.  As  you  look,  a  puff  of  steam  and 
smoke  from  a  passing  train  trails  across  it,  and 
vou  think,  sadly,  it  may  be,  upon  the  utilitarian 
spirit  which  thus  disfigures  the  country-side  with 
this  array  of  arches.  Now,  if  you  were  assured 
of  this  being  a  Eoman  aqueduct,  to  which,  indeed, 
it  bears  a  striking  resemblance,  the  case  would 
be  different ;  a  halo  of  romance  would  surround 
the  structure.  It  is  purely  a  matter  of  sentiment 
how  you  look  upon  these  things ;  the  mind,  not 
the  eye,  settles  such  questions  of  taste. 

And  so  we  tramped  along,  passing  Slough  Green, 
with  its  quaint  and  recently  added-to  old  house 
of  Slough  Place,  and  we  presently  came  to  White- 
man's  Green,  as  picturesque  as  its  name. 

Before  going  on  into  Cuckfield,  we  sat  down 
a  while  beside  the  road,  for  'twas  hot,  and  we  w^ere 
in  lazy  mood. 

From  our  resting-place  we  could  command  a 
view  down  the  road  to  where  stood  a  roadside 
inn,  and  we  were  dreamily  regarding  this  prospect, 
one  of  interest  on  a  hot  day,  when  suddenly,  as 
if  shot  out,  a  figure  emerged  from  that  hostelry, 
and  fell  grovelling  in  the  dust,  amid  imprecations 
and  a  general  commotion,  whose  sounds  reached 
us  distinctly.  This  was  interesting,  but  it  was 
(Miough  to  watch  from  afar.  But  presently  he 
A\ho  had  been  so  shamefully  entreated  arose,  and 
painfully  made  his  intricate  way  uphill ;  and  as  he 
drew  near,  it  was  evident  that  he  was  very  drunken. 

He   proved   to  be  a  pedlar,   one  who    sells  laces 


THIRD  DAY.  131 

and  buttons  and  needles,  pins  and  tapes,  and 
such  small  wares ;  and  his  stock-in-trade  was  in 
a  case  slung  upon  his  back. 

Fi<^ure  to  yourself  a  man  below  the  middle  height, 
yet  thin  and  wiry,  habited  (it  were  impossible  to  say 
dressed)  in  clothes  which  years  ago  had  been  black, 
but  which  were  now  rusty  with  age  and  ragged  with 
hard  usage  ;  a  man  whose  age  it  were  impossible 
to  guess  with  near  approach  to  accuracy,  but  who 
might  be  anything  from  thirty-five  to  near  upon 
fifty  years  of  age.  From 
under  an  absolutely  shapeless 
hat,  his  face,  red  and  streaky, 
could  be  seen,  here  and  there 
scratched  by  his  fall.  Though 
it  was  now  spring,  he  wore  a 
once  white  muffler  tied  in  a 
wisp  about  his  neck,  its  long  ^       <,-....". 

ends  hanging  down  in  front  ^ 

C    ^    •  r-i  11  ^^^'D   THUS   WE   TARTED. 

ot  hmi.      (jrreat  rents  showed 

in  his  trousers  at  either  knee,  and  from  them  the 
torn  cloth  hung  down,  as  it  were,  on  hinges,  and 
flapped  and  waved  as  he  moved.  His  boots  were 
large  and  bulbous,  and  one  of  them  was  tied 
around  the  toe  of  it  with  a  cloth.  For  support 
he  leaned  upon  a  ragged  stick,  so  that  he  was, 
indeed,  rags  in  all  his  equipment.  Had  this  fellow 
been  an  Italian  and  in  Venice,  he  would  have 
been  accounted  almost  invaluable  as  a  model  for 
(say)  a  picturesque  beggar ;  but  this  was  England, 
and  the  pedlar  spoke  our  own  tongue,  so  his  appear- 
ance was  merely  sordid,  with  no  qualification. 


132  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

When  at  length  he  came  up,  tlie  pack  was 
unstrapped  and  opened,  disclosing  his  small  stock. 

"Anything  in  my  line,  gentlemen?" 

We  bought  some  laces,  and  one  of  us  produced 
a  sketch-book,  and  began  some  rough  pencil- 
lings. 

"Well,"  said  the  subject  of  those  jottings,  noticing 
this,  "  I  ain't  never  before  bin  a  artis'  moddle  ;  I  ain't 
pritty  enough,  I  reckon." 

He  drew  himself  up  into  a  ridiculously  formal 
attitude,  and  failed  absurdly  in  the  attempt  to  look 
sober,  so  that  we  laughed  loud  and  long. 

"  I  don't  see  nothin'  to  laugh  at,"  said  he  of  the 
tatters.  "  I've  got  to  tramp  into  Eeigit,  an'  I  ain't 
took  enough  to  get  me  a  bed  to-night." 

It  was  extremely  unlikely  that  this  unsteady  fellow 
would  think  of  walking  that  eighteen  miles,  and  as 
to  his  takings,  that  story  of  his  was  probably  as 
apocryphal  as  is  the  first  edition  of  an  evening 
newspaper ;  but  before  we  turned  away,  we  put 
some  silver  into  his  hand.  Presently,  turning  round 
to  look  after  the  pedlar,  we  saw  him  still  regarding 
the  Queen's  shilling  in  his  outstretched  palm,  and 
thus  we  parted. 

And  so  into  Cuckfield,  that  pleasant  old  town, 
which,  standing  on  no  railway,  having  no  manu- 
factures, and  being  on  the  slightly  hillier  road  of 
the  two  short  routes  to  Brighton,  is  consequently 
but  scantily  favoured  of  your  "scorching"  cyclist, 
and  nods  drowsily  in  summer  sunshine  and  winter 
snows,  all  round  the  calendar.  It  pleased  the 
engineers  of  the  Brighton  Baihvay  to  bring  their  line 


THIRD  DAY.  133 

no  nearer  Cuckfield  than  Ilayward's  Heath,  some 
two  miles  distant,  where  they  built  a  station  of  that 
name,  giving  thereby  satisfaction,  if  not  to  the  com- 
mercial population  of  this  Sleepy  Hollow,  at  least  to 
the  private  inhabitants,  and  to  the  perhaps  selfish 
tourist,  who  would  rather  happen  upon  such  quiet 
backwaters  of  life  as  this  than  upon  the  bustling 
prosperity  of  a  town  so  situated  as  to  snatch  every 
commercial  advantage  a  sordid  and  grasping  age 
may  offer.  For  I  don't  think  the  Cuckfield  shop- 
keepers grow  rich  upon  Cuckfield  trade.  What  of 
business  was  left  to  the  town  when  the  coaches  ceased 
running,  fifty  years  ago,  has  been  taken  away  by 
the  already  greater  town  of  Hay  ward's  Heath,  that 
has  sprung  up  fungus-like  round  the  rail.  And 
Hayward's  Heath  is  in  Cuckfield  parish !  Ah ! 
ingrate  parasite,  that  kills  the  friendly  growth 
to  which  it  owes  existence.  County  business 
has  left  Cuckfield  for  the  more  convenient  settle- 
ment on  the  railway.  Everything  else  follows, 
and,  to  the  tourist's  delight,  if  to  the  freeholder's 
disgust,  Cuckfield  is  left  to  its  traditions  and  natural 
beauties. 

At  how  many  places  have  you  seen  an  inn  so 
redolent  of  old  coaching  days  as  is  the  "Talbot" 
here,  whose  embayed  frontage  of  such  height  and 
length  looks  down  upon  the  High  Street  with  solid 
primness  of  Georgian  red  brick,  earnest  of  the  solid 
comfort  obtainable  within  ?  What  ranges  of  stables 
here  and  at  the  "  King's  Head  !  " 

Cuckfield,  for  all  the  day  being  not  yet  advanced 
beyond  tea-time,  was    insistent  in  its  claims  to  be 


134  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

regarded  as  the  end  of  that  day's  journey;  so  we  to 
our  inn  for  toilette  and  tea,  and  afterwards  an  ex- 
ploration of  the  town  before  the  twilight  quenched 
the  dull  red  tone  of  its  red-bricked  High  Street  in 
an  impartial  mantle  of  tender  grey. 


FOURTH  DAY. 

We  remained  at  Cuckfield  the  greater  part  of  this 
morning.  To  see  Cuckfiekl  thoroughly,  and  to  gain 
an  adequate  impression  of  it,  demands  some  morn- 
ing hours  spent  in  its  streets ;  some  leisured  inspec- 
tion of  its  large  and  handsome  church,  which  runs 
the  gamut  of  Pointed  architecture  and  is  filled  with 
memorials  of  the  Burrells  and  the  Sergisons  of 
Cuckfield  Park ;  and  lastly,  requires  a  tour  of  that 
romantic  home  of  deer  and  tradition,  acknowledged 
by  Harrison  Ains worth  to  be  the  original  of  "  Rook- 
wood."  Cuckfield  Place  stands  amid  the  groves  and 
avenues  of  this  charming  domain,  its  grey  Eliza- 
bethan front  and  greyer  roof  visible  at  some  points 
from  the  road,  that  descends  abruptly  on  leaving  the 
town  as  you  go  southward,  lined  on  either  side  with 
cottages  and  fir  trees,  whose  branches  and  dark  ever- 
green foliage  frame  the  vista  as  artistically  as  ever 
foreground  was  contrived  by  artist.  T.ower  down 
this  road  the  entrance-lodge  leads  to  the  Chase,  a 
long  avenue  of  ancient  lime  trees,  in  whose  midst 
stands  that  clock-tower  from  Slaugham  Place  of 
which  1  have  already  spoken.  The  Park  is  242 
acres  in  extent,  and,  wooded  as  it  is,  and  traversed 
throughout    its    picturesquely  broken  surface   by  a 


136 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


deep-buiTowing  stream,  is  surpassed  by  few  estates 
in  natural  beauty;  and  over  Cuckfield  Park  and 
Place   is   cast   a   spell   of  romantic   interest  by  the 


CUCKFIKLD    PLACE. 


incidents  of  "  Rookwood,"  that  grim  and  gory  tale 
by  which  Ainsworth  made  his  literary  repute,  such 
as  it  is.  "Eookwood,"  commenced  in  183 1,  was  not 
finished  till  1834.  Its  author  died  at  Reigate, 
3rd  January  1882.  It  is  thus,  in  his  preface,  he 
acknowledges  his  model : — 


FOURTH  DAY.  137 

"  The  supernatural  occurrence  forming  the  ground- 
work of  one  of  the  ballads  which  I  have  made  the 
harbinger  of  doom  to  the  house  of  Rookwood,  is 
ascribed  by  popular  superstition  to  a  family  resi- 
dent in  Sussex,  upon  whose  estate  the  fatal  tree 
(a  gigantic  lime,  with  mighty  arms  and  huge  girth 
of  trunk,  as  described  in  the  song)  is  still  carefully 
preserved.  Cuckfield  Place,  to  which  this  singular 
piece  of  timber  is  attached,  is,  I  may  state  for  the 
benefit  of  the  curious,  the  real  Eookwood  Hall ; 
for  I  have  not  drawn  upon  imagination,  but  upon 
memory  in  describing  the  seat  and  domains  of  that 
fated  family.  The  general  features  of  the  venerable 
structure,  several  of  its  chambers,  the  old  garden, 
and,  in  particular,  the  noble  park,  with  its  spreading 
prospects,  its  picturesque  views  of  the  hall,  '  like 
bits  of  Mrs.  Radcliffe '  (as  the  poet  Shelley  once 
observed  of  the  same  scene),  its  deep  glades,  through 
which  the  deer  come  lightly  tripping  down,  its 
uplands,  slopes,  brooks,  brakes,  coverts,  and  groves 
are  carefully  delineated." 

"Like  Mrs.  RadclifFe!"  This  romance  is  indeed 
written  in  that  peculiar  convention  which  obtained 
with  her,  with  Horace  Walpole,  with  Maturin,  and 
Lewis — "Monk"  Lewis;  a  convention  of  Gothic 
gloom  and  superstition,  delighting  in  gore  and  ap- 
paritions, which  was  responsible  for  the  "  Mysteries 
of  Udolpho,"  "The  Itahan,"  "The  Monk,"  and 
other  highly  seasoned  reading  of  the  early  years  of 
this  centurv.  All  this  sort  of  thini'  was  then  ex- 
tremely  popular,  but  who  reads  those  blood-boltcrcd 
romances   now  ?      Ainsworth   delibcratelv  modelled 


^38 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


his  manner  upon  Mrs.  Radcliffe,  changing  the  scenes 
of  his  desperate  deeds  from  her  favourite  Italy  to 
our  own  land.  Ainsworth,  I  suppose,  is  still  read, 
chiefly  by  an  admiring  clientele  of  schoolboys,  who 


HAEEISON  AINSWORTIT  {from  the  Fraser  Portrait). 

devour  incident,  however  improbable  ;  and  Ains- 
worth is  both  full  of  action  and  wild  improbability. 
In  "Ilookwood,"  too,  his  workmanship  is  of  the 
poorest ;  you  are  allowed  full  view  of  the  frame 
upon  which  the  canvas  is  stretched — a  canvas  painted 


FOURTH  DAY.  139 

upon  with  bright,  nay,  hirid  colours  and  the  heaviest 
of  hands.  The  songs  and  ballads,  too,  scattered  up 
and  down  those  pages  are  the  merest  shoddy,  and 
his  jokes  the  most  hob-nailed  of  witticisms.  You 
deplore  his  verses,  his  puns  ;  your  gravity  is  en- 
dangered by  what  he  intends  to  be  horrible,  but  is, 
after  all,  only  repulsively  ridiculous.  These  pages 
from  the  close  of  "  Rookwood "  exhibit  this  trait. 
Alan  Rookwood  visits  the  family  vault  : — 

"  He  then  walked  beneath  the  shadow  of  one  of 
the  yews,  chanting  an  odd  stanza  or  so  of  one  of 
his  wild  staves,  wrapped  the  while,  it  would  seem, 
in  affectionate  contemplation  of  the  subject-matter  of 
his  song  : — 

THE  CHURCHYARD  YK^W 

-Metuendaijue  succo 


Taxus." 


A  noxious  tree  is  the  churchyard  yew, 
As  if  from  the  dead  its  sap  it  drew ; 
Dark  are  its  branches,  and  dismal  to  see, 
Like  phunes  at  Death's  latest  solemnity. 
Spectral  and  jagged,  and  black  as  the  wings 
"NYhicli  some  spirit  of  ill  o'er  a  sepulchre  Hiiigs  : 
Oh  !  a  terrible  tree  is  the  churchyard  yew  ; 
Like  it  is  UDthiiig  so  grindy  to  view. 

Yet  this  baleful  In'c  liath  a  core  so  sound, 
Can  nought  so  tough  in  the  grove  be  found  : 
From  it  were  fashioned  brave  English  bows, 
The  boast  of  our  isle,  and  the  dread  of  its  foes. 
For  our  sturdy  sires  cut  their  stoutest  staves 
From  the  liranch  that  hung  o'er  their  fathers'  graves ; 
And  though  it  be  dreary  and  dismal  to  view, 
Staunch  at  the  heart  is  the  churchyard  yew. 


I40  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

"  His  ditty  concluded,  Alan  entered  the  church- 
yard, taking  care  to  leave  the  door  slightly  ajar,  in 
order  to  facilitate  his  grandson's  entrance.  For  an 
instant  he  lingered  in  the  chancel.  The  yellow 
moonlight  fell  upon  the  monuments  of  his  race ; 
and,  directed  by  the  instinct  of  hate,  Alan's  eye 
rested  upon  the  gilded  entablature  of  his  perfidious 
brother  Reginald,  and  muttering  curses,  *  not  loud, 
but  deep,'  he  passed  on.  Having  lighted  his  lantern 
in  no  tranquil  mood,  he  descended  into  the  vault, 
observing  a  similar  caution  with  respect  to  the 
portal  of  the  cemetery,  which  he  left  partially  un- 
closed, with  the  key  in  the  lock.  Here  he  resolved 
to  abide  Luke's  coming.  The  reader  knows  what 
probability  there  was  of  his  expectations  being 
realised. 

"For  a  while  he  paced  the  tomb,  wrapped  in 
gloomy  meditation,  and  pondering,  it  might  be,  upon 
the  result  of  Luke's  expedition,  and  the  fulfilment 
of  his  own  dark  schemes,  scowling  from  time  to 
time  beneath  his  bent  eyebrows,  counting  the  grim 
array  of  cofiins,  and  noticing,  with  something  like 
satisfaction,  that  the  shell  which  contained  the 
remains  of  his  daughter  had  been  restored  to  its 
former  position.  He  then  bethought  him  of  Father 
Checkley's  midnight  intrusion  upon  his  conference 
with  Luke,  and  their  apprehension  of  a  supernatural 
visitation,  and  his  curiosity  was  stimulated  to  ascer- 
tain by  what  means  the  priest  had  gained  admission 
to  the  spot  unperceived  and  unheard.  He  resolved 
to  sound  the  floor,  and  see  Avhether  any  secret 
entrance  existed ;  and  hollowly  and   dully   did   the 


FOURTH  DAY.  141 

hard  flagging  return  tlic  stroke  of  his  heel  as  he 
pursued  his  scrutiny.  At  length  the  metallic  ring- 
ing of  an  iron  plate,  immediately  behind  the  marble 
effigy  of  Sir  Ilauulph,  resolved  the  point.  There  it 
was  that  the  priest  had  found  access  to  the  vault ; 
but  Alan's  disappointment  was  excessive  when  he 
discovered  that  this  plate  was  fastened  on  the 
underside,  and  all  communication  thence  with  the 
churchyard,  or  to  wherever  else  it  might  conduct 
him,  cut  otf;  but  the  present  was  not  the  season 
for  further  investigation,  and  tolerably  pleased  with 
the  discovery  he  had  already  made,  he  returned  to 
his  silent  march  around  the  sepulclire. 

"At  length  a  sound,  like  the  sudden  shutting  of 
the  church  door,  broke  upon  the  profound  stillness 
of  the  holy  edifice.  In  the  hush  that  succeeded,  a 
footstep  was  distinctly  heard  threading  the  aisle. 

"  '  He  comes — he  comes  ! '  exclaimed  Alan,  joy- 
fully ;  adding,  an  instant  after,  in  an  altered  voice, 
'but  he  comes  alone.' 

"The  footstep  drew  near  to  the  mouth  of  the  vault 
— it  was  upon  the  stairs.  Alan  stepped  forward  to 
greet,  as  he  supposed,  his  grandson,  but  started 
back  in  astonishment  and  dismay  as  he  encountered 
in  his  stead  Lady  Rookwood.  Alan  retreated,  while 
the  lady  advanced,  swinging  the  iron  door  after  her, 
which  closed  with  a  tremendous  clang.  Approach- 
ing the  statue  of  the  first  Sir  llanulph,  she  passed, 
and  Alan  then  remarked  the  singular  and  terrible 
expression  of  her  eyes,  which  appeared  to  be  fixed 
upon  the  statue,  or  upon  some  invisible  object  near 
it.     There  was  something  in  her  whole  attitude  and 


142  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

manner  calculated  to  impress  the  deepest  terror  on 
the  beholder,  and  Alan  gazed  upon  her  with  an  awe 
which  momentarily  increased.  Lady  Rookwood's 
bearing  was  as  proud  and  erect  as  we  have  formerly 
described  it  to  have  been,  her  brow  was  as  haughtily 
bent,  her  chiselled  lip  as  disdainfully  curled ;  but 
the  staring,  changeless  eye,  and  the  deep-heaved 
sob  which  occasionally  escaped  her,  betrayed  how 
much  she  was  under  the  influence  of  mortal  terror. 
Alan  watched  her  in  amazement.  He  knew  not 
how  the  scene  was  likely  to  terminate,  nor  what 
could  have  induced  her  to  visit  this  ghostly  spot  at 
such  an  hour  and  alone  ;  but  he  resolved  to  abide 
the  issue  in  silence — profound  as  her  own.  After 
a  time,  however,  his  impatience  got  the  better  of  his 
fears  and  scruples,  and  he  spoke. 

"'What  doth  Lady  Rookwood  in  the  abode  of 
the  dead  ? '  asked  he  at  length. 

"  She  started  at  the  sound  of  his  voice,  but  still 
kept  her  eye  fixed  upon  the  vacancy. 

"  '  Hast  thou  not  beckoned  me  hither,  and  am  I 
not  come  ? '  returned  she,  in  a  hollow  tone.  '  And 
now  thou  askest  wherefore  I  am  here.  I  am  here 
because,  as  in  thy  life  I  feared  thee  not,  neither  in 
death  do  I  fear  thee.     I  am  here  because ' 

"  '  What  seest  thou  ? '  interrupted  Alan,  with  ill- 
suppressed  terror. 

"'What  see  I — ha— ha ! '  shouted  Lady  Rook- 
Avood,  amidst  discordant  laughter  ;  '  that  which 
might  appal  a  heart  less  stout  than  mine — a  figure 
anguish-writhen,  with  veins  that  glow  as  with  a 
subtle   and  consuming  flame.     A   substance,   yet  a 


FOURTH  DAY.  143 

shadow,  in  thy  living  likeness.  Ha — frown  if  thou 
wilt ;  I  can  return  thy  glances.' 

"'Where  dost  thou  see  this  vision?'  demanded 
Alan. 

"  '  Where?'  echoed  Lady  Rookwood,  becoming  for 
the  first  time  sensible  of  the  presence  of  a  stranger. 
'  Ha — who  are  you  that  question  me  ? — what  are 
you  ? — speak  ! ' 

"  'No  matter  who  or  what  I  am,'  returned  Alan; 
'  I  ask  you  what  you  behold  ? ' 

"  *  Can  you  see  nothing  ? ' 

"  '  Nothing,'  replied  Alan. 

"  '  You  knew  Sir  Piers  Rookwood  ? ' 

"  '  Is  it  he  ? '  asked  Alan,  drawing  near  her. 

"  '  It  is,'  replied  Lady  Rookwood ;  '  I  have  fol- 
lowed him  hither,  and  I  will  follow  him  whither- 
soever he  leads  me,  were  it  to ' 

"  '  What  doth  he  now  ? '  asked  Alan  ;  '  do  you  see 
him  still?' 

"  '  The  figure  points  to  that  sarcophagus,'  returned 
Lady  Rookwood — 'can  you  raise  up  the  lid?' 

"  '  No,'  replied  Alan  ;  '  my  strength  will  not  avail 
to  hft  it.' 

" '  Yet  let  the  trial  be  made,'  said  Lady  Rook- 
wood;  'the  figure  points  there  still — my  own  arm 
shall  aid  you.' 

"Alan  watched  her  in  dumb  wonder.  She  advanced 
towards  the  marble  monument,  and  beckoned  him 
to  follow.  He  reluctantly  complied.  Without  any 
expectation  of  being  able  to  move  the  ponderous 
lid  of  the  sarcophagus,  at  Lady  Rookwood's  renewed 
request  he  applied  himself  to  the  task.     AMiat  was 


144  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

his  surprise,  when,  beneath  their  united  efforts,  he 
found  the  ponderous  slab  slowly  revolve  upon  its 
vast  hinges,  and,  with  little  further  difficulty,  it 
was  completely  elevated,  though  it  still  required  the 
exertion  of  all  Alan's  strength  to  prop  it  open  and 
prevent  its  falling  back. 

" '  What  does  it  contain  I '  asked  Lady  Rook- 
wood. 

"  'A  warrior's  ashes,'  returned  Alan. 

"  '  There  is  a  rusty  dagger  upon  a  fold  of  faded 
linen,'  cried  Lady  Rookwood,  holding  down  the 
light. 

"  '  It  is  the  weapon  with  which  the  first  dame  of 
house  of  Rookwood  was  stabbed,'  said  Alan,  with  a 
grim  smile  : — 

'  Wliicli  wlioso  fiiuleth  in  the  tomb 
Shall  clutch  xuitil  the  hour  of  doom ; 
And  when  'tis  grasped  l)y  hand  of  clay, 
The  curse  of  blood  shall  pass  away.' 

So  saith  the  rhyme.     Have  you  seen  enough  ? ' 

*' '  No,'  said  Lady  Rookwood,  precipitating  her- 
self into  the  marble  coffin.  '  That  weapon  shall  be 
mine.' 

"'Come  forth — come  forth,'  cried  Alan.  'My 
arm  trembles — I  cannot  support  the  lid.' 

"  '  I  will  have  it,  though  I  grasp  it  to  eternity,' 
shrieked  Lady  Rookwood,  vainly  endeavouring  to 
wrest  away  the  dagger,  which  was  fastened,  together 
with  the  linen  upon  which  it  lay,  by  some  adhesive 
substance  to  the  bottom  of  the  shell. 

"  At  this  moment   Alan   Rookwood  happened  to 


FOURTH  DAY.  145 

cast  his  eye  upward,  and  he  then  beheld  what  filled 
him  with  new  terror.  The  axe  of  the  sable  statue 
was  poised  above  its  head,  as  in  the  act  to  strike 
him.  Some  secret  machinery,  it  was  evident,  existed 
between  the  sarcophagus  lid  and  this  mysterious 
image.  But  in  the  first  impulse  of  his  alarm  Alan 
abandoned  his  hold  of  the  slab,  and  it  sunk  slowly 
downwards.  He  uttered  a  loud  cry  as  it  moved. 
Lady  llookwood  heard  this  cry.  She  raised  herself 
at  the  same  moment — the  dagger  was  in  her  hand — 
she  pressed  it  against  the  lid,  but  its  downward  force 
was  too  great  to  be  withstood.  The  light  was  within 
the  sarcophagus,  and  Alan  could  discern  her  features. 
The  expression  was  terrible.  She  uttered  one  shriek» 
and  the  lid  closed  for  ever. 

"Alan  was  in  total  darkness.  The  light  had  been 
enclosed  with  Lady  Rookwood.  There  w-as  some- 
thing so  horrible  in  her  probable  fate  that  even  he 
shuddered  as  he  thought  upon  it.  Exerting  all  his 
remaining  strength,  he  essayed  to  raise  the  lid,  but 
now  it  was  more  firmly  closed  than  ever.  It  defied 
all  his  power.  Once,  for  an  instant,  lie  fancied  that 
it  yielded  to  his  straining  sinews,  but  it  w^as  only 
his  hand  that  slided  upon  the  surface  of  the  marble. 
It  was  fixed — immovable.  The  sides  and  lid  rang 
with  the  strokes  which  the  unfortunate  lady  be- 
stowed upon  them  with  the  dagger's  point ;  but 
these  sounds  were  not  long  heard.  Presently  all 
was  still ;  the  marble  ceased  to  vibrate  with  her 
blows.  Alan  struck  the  lid  with  his  knuckles,  but 
no  response  was  returned.     All  was  silent. 

"  He  now  turned  his  attention  to  his  own  situa- 

K 


146  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

tion,  which  had  become  sufficiently  alarming.  An 
hour  must  have  elapsed,  yet  Luke  had  not  arrived. 
The  door  of  the  vault  was  closed— the  key  was  in 
the  lock,  and  on  the  outside.  He  was  himself  a 
prisoner  within  the  tomb.  What  if  Luke  should 
not  return?  What  if  he  were  slain,  as  it  might 
chance,  in  the  enterprise?  That  thought  flashed 
across  his  brain  like  an  electric  shock.  None  knew 
of  his  retreat  but  his  grandson.  He  might  perish  of 
famine  within  this  desolate  vault. 

"  He  checked  this  notion  as  soon  as  it  was 
formed — it  was  too  dreadful  to  be  indulged  in.  A 
thousand  circumstances  might  conspire  to  detain 
Luke.  He  was  sure  to  come.  Yet  the  solitude, 
the  darkness  was  awful,  almost  intolerable.  The 
dying  and  the  dead  were  around  him.  He  dared 
not  stir. 

"  Another  hour — an  age  it  seemed  to  him — had 
passed.  Still  Luke  came  not.  Horrible  forebodings 
crossed  him  ;  but  he  would  not  surrender  himself 
to  them.  He  rose,  and  crawled  in  the  direction, 
as  he  supposed,  of  the  door — fearful  even  of  the 
stealthy  sound  of  his  own  footsteps.  He  reached 
it,  and  his  heart  once  more  throbbed  with  hope. 
He  bent  his  ear  to  the  key ;  he  drew  in  his  breath ; 
he  listened  for  some  sound,  but  nothing  was  to  be 
heard.  A  groan  would  have  been  almost  music  in 
his  ears. 

*'  Another  hour  was  gone  !  He  was  now  a  prey  to 
the  most  frightful  apprehensions,  agitated  in  turns 
by  the  wildest  emotions  of  rage  and  terror.  He  at 
one   moment   imagined    that   Luke  had  abandoned 


FOURTH  DAY.  147 

him,  and  heaped  curses  upon  his  head ;  at  the  next, 
convinced  that  he  had  fallen,  he  bewailed  with  equal 
bitterness  his  grandson's  fate  and  his  own.  He 
paced  the  tomb  like  one  distracted  ;  he  stamped 
upon  the  iron  plate  ;  he  smote  w^ith  his  hands  upon 
the  door ;  he  shouted,  and  the  vault  hollowly  echoed 
his  lamentations.  But  Time's  sand  ran  on,  and 
Luke  arrived  not. 

"  Alan  now  abandoned  himself  wholly  to  despair. 
lie  could  no  longer  anticipate  his  grandson's  coming 
— no  longer  hope  for  deliverance.  His  fate  was 
sealed.  Death  awaited  him.  He  must  anticipate  his 
slow  but  inevitable  stroke,  enduring  all  the  grinding 
horrors  of  starvation.  The  contemplation  of  such 
an  end  was  madness,  but  he  was  forced  to  contem- 
plate it  now  ;  and  so  appalling  did  it  appear  to  his 
imagination,  that  he  half  resolved  to  dash  out  his 
brains  against  the  w-alls  of  the  sepulchre,  and  put 
an  end  at  once  to  his  tortures ;  and  nothing,  except 
a  doubt  whether  he  might  not,  by  imperfectly  accom- 
plishing his  purpose,  increase  his  own  suffering, 
prevented  him  from  putting  this  dreadful  idea  into 
execution.  His  dagger  was  gone,  and  he  had  no 
other  weapon.  Terrors  of  a  new  kind  now  assailed 
him.  The  dead,  he  fancied,  were  bursting  from  their 
coffins,  and  he  peopled  the  darkness  with  grisly 
phantoms.  They  were  round  about  him  on  each 
side,  whirling  and  rustling,  gibbering,  groaning, 
shrieking,  laughing,  and  lamenting.  He  was  stunned, 
stifled.  The  air  seemed  to  grow  suffocating,  pesti- 
lential ;  the  wild  laughter  was  redoubled  ;  the  hor- 
rible troop  assailed  him  ;    they  dragged  him  along 


148  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

the  tomb,  and  amid  their  howls  he  fell,  and  became 
insensible. 

"  When  he  returned  to  himself,  it  was  some  time 
before  he  could  collect  his  scattered  faculties ;  and 
when  the  agonising  consciousness  of  his  terrible 
situation  forced  itself  upon  his  mind,  he  had  nigh 
relapsed  into  obliviou.  He  arose.  He  rushed  to- 
wards the  door :  he  knocked  against  it  with  his 
knuckles  till  the  blood  streamed  from  them ;  he 
scratched  against  it  with  his  nails  till  they  were  torn 
off  by  the  roots.  AVith  insane  fury  he  hurled  him- 
self against  the  iron  frame  :  it  w^as  in  vain.  Again 
he  had  recourse  to  the  trap-door.  He  searched  for 
it ;  he  found  it.  He  laid  himself  upon  the  ground. 
There  was  no  interval  of  space  in  which  he  could 
insert  a  finger's  point.  He  beat  it  with  his  clenched 
hand;  he  tore  it  with  his  teeth;  he  jumped  upon 
it ;  he  smote  it  with  his  heel.  The  iron  returned  a 
sullen  sound. 

"  He  again  essayed  the  lid  of  the  sarcophagus. 
Despair  nerved  his  strength.  He  raised  the  slab  a 
few  inches.  He  shouted,  screamed,  but  no  answer 
was  returned  ;  and  again  the  lid  fell. 

"'She  is  dead!'  cried  Alan.  'Why  have  I  not 
shared  her  fate  ?  But  mine  is  to  come,  xlnd  such 
a  death  ! — oh,  oh  ! '  And,  frenzied  at  the  thought, 
he  again  hurried  to  the  door,  and  renewed  his  fruit- 
less attempts  to  escape,  till  nature  gave  way,  and  he 
sank  upon  the  floor,  groaning  and  exhausted. 

"Physical  suffering  now  began  to  take  the  place 
of  his  mental  tortures.  Parched  and  consumed  with 
a  fierce  internal  fever,  he  was  tormented  by  unap- 


FOURTH  DAY. 


149 


peasable  thirst — of  all  human  ills  the  most  unen- 
durable. Ilis  tongue  was  dry  and  dusty,  his  throat 
inilamcd  ;  his  lips  had  lost  all  moisture.  lie  licked 
the  humid  floor ;  he  sought  to  imbibe  the  nitrous 
drops  from  the  walls ;  but,  instead  of  allaying  his 
thirst,  they  increased  it.  He  would  have  given  the 
world,  had  he  possessed  it,  for  a  draught  of  cold 
spring- water.  Oh,  to  have  died  with  his  lips  upon 
some  bubbling  fountain's  marge !  But  to  perish 
thus  ! 

"  Nor  were  the  pangs  of  hunger  wanting.  He 
had  to  endure  all  the  horrors  of  famine  as  well  as 
the  agonies  of  quenchless  thirst. 

"  In  this  dreadful  state  three  days  and  nights 
passed  over  Alan's  fated  head.  Nor  night  nor  day 
had  he.  Time,  with  him,  was  only  measured  by  its 
duration,  and  that  seemed  interminable.  Each  hour 
added  to  his  suffering,  and  brought  with  it  no  relief. 
During  this  period  of  prolonged  misery  reason  often 
tottered  on  her  throne.  Sometimes  he  was  under 
the  influence  of  the  wildest  passions.  He  dragged 
coffins  from  their  recesses,  hurled  them  upon  the 
ground,  striving  to  break  them  open  and  drag  forth 
their  loathsome  contents.  Upon  other  occasions  he 
would  weep  bitterly  and  wildly ;  and  once — once 
only — did  he  attempt  to  pray  ;  but  he  started  from 
his  knees  with  an  echo  of  infernal  laughter,  as  he 
deemed,  ringing  in  his  ears.  Then,  again,  would 
he  call  down  imprecations  upon  himself  and  his 
whole  line,  trampling  upon  the  pile  of  coffins 
he  had  reared ;  and,  lastly,  more  subdued,  would 
creep  to  the  boards  that  contained  the  body  of  his 


I50  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

child,  kissing  them  with  a  frantic  outbreak  of  affec- 
tion. 

"  At  length  he  became  sensible  of  his  approaching 
dissolution.  To  him  the  thought  of  death  might 
well  be  terrible ;  but  he  quailed  not  before  it,  or 
rather  seemed,  in  his  latest  moments,  to  resume 
all  his  wonted  firmness  of  character.  Gathering 
together  his  remaining  strength,  he  dragged  himself 
towards  the  niche  wherein  his  brother,  Sir  Reginald 
Rookwood,  was  deposited,  and,  placing  his  hand 
upon  the  coffin,  solemnly  exclaimed,  '  My  curse — 
my  dying  curse — be  upon  thee  evermore  ! ' 

"  Falling  with  his  face  upon  the  coffin,  Alan 
instantly  expired.  In  this  attitude  his  remains  were 
discovered." 

How  to  repress  a  smile  at  the  picture  conjured  up 
of  Lady  Rookwood  "  precipitating  herself  into  the 
marble  coffin  ? "  How  not  to  refrain  from  laughing 
at  the  fantastic  description  of  Alan  "piling  up  coffins 
in  the  vault  and  jumping  upon  them?" 

This  is  the  veriest  burlesque  of  horror. 

Cuckfield  Park  is  picturesque  and  romantic  in- 
deed, but  it,  as  might  any  place,  refuses  to  lend 
itself  to  such  preposterous  romanticism  as  this. 
And,  because  of  that  tale's  appalling  vulgarity,  we 
may  be  thankful  that  only  in  its  preface  does 
"Rookwood"  reveal  Cuckfield.  The  descriptions 
in  those  pages  of  Place  and  Park  would  fit  a 
hundred  other  manors  and  mansions  of  this  land ; 
and  it  is  well  that  this  should  be  thus,  for  to 
thoroughly  identify  the  place  with  the  novel,  would 
bo  for  ever  to  taint  so  fair  a  retreat. 


FOURTH  DAY.  151 

Vtui  the  town  has  a  legitimate  air  of  romance, 
arising  from  memories  of  old  times,  which  arc  not 
so  old  but  that  to  go  back  two  generations  would 
land  us  in  their  midst. 

There  is  a  fine  air  of  the  Regency  still  lingering 
about  Cuckfield  and  the  Brighton  Eoad  for  they 
who  list  to  hear  of  those  wild  days  and  the 
brilliant  end  of  the  Coaching  Age.  I  always 
think  upon  "  Ruddigore "  and  the  Brighton  Road 
together ;  of  frogged  frock-coats,  blucher-boots, 
curly  wigs,  and  all  the  fopperies  of  Corinthian 
days ;  of  Prince  George  and  his  crew  of  roysterers, 
who,  like  "  old  Q.,"  "  swore  like  ten  thousand 
troopers ; "  and  I  must  confess  I  like  to  read  of 
these  times,  and  to  dwell  upon  this  old  town  and 
these  storied  ways. 

Rowlandson  realises  the  picturesqueness  of  the 
Cuckfield  of  his  time  for  us  very  finely  in  that 
book  of  his  and  Wigstead's  making.  "  At  Cuck- 
field," says  our  Wigstead,  "  a  fair  is  held  in 
September,  resorted  to  by  a  great  number  of 
pretty  rustic  females,  and  by  a  multitude  of  happy 
swains."  This  view,  by  Rowlandson,  gives  an 
impression  of  that  fair,  in  which  you  notice  one 
of  those  "  happy  swains "  being  choused  out  of 
his  liberty  by  an  artful,  ostentatiously  friendly 
recruiting  sergeant.  Poor  recruity !  To-morrow 
the  sergeant  will  not  be  so  robustiously  good- 
humoured  with  you ;  his  demonstrativeness  will 
shape  itself  in  other  moulds. 

Down  the  street,  meanwhile,  goes  a  carriage, 
well     horsed,    with    postboys    ready    for     the    ill- 


1-52  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

conditioned  roads  that  awaited  travellers  just 
beyond  the  town.  These  roads,  to  dignify  those 
early  tracks  by  that  name,  were  comparatively  little 
travelled  ere  the  Prince  had  popularised  Brighton, 
for  they  had  a  most  unenviable  name  for  miriness, 
as  indeed  had  all  the  ways  of  Kent,  Surrey,  and 
Sussex.  Horace  Walpole,  indeed,  travelling  in 
Sussex  in  1749,  visiting  Ai'undel  and  Cowdray, 
acquired  a  too  intimate  acquaintance  with  their 
phenomenal  depth  of  mud  and  ruts,  inasmuch  as 
he — that  finicking  little  gentleman — was  compelled 
to  alight  precipitantly  from  his  overturned  chaise, 
and  to  foot  it  like  any  common  fellow.  One 
quite  pities  his  daintiness  in  this  narration  of 
his  sorrows,  so  picturesquely  are  they  set  forth 
by  that  accomplished  letter-writer  from  the  safe 
seclusion  of  Strawberry  Hill.  He  writes  to  George 
Montagu,  and  dates  this  account  the  26th  August 

1749:'— 

"  Mr.  Chute  and  I  are  returned  from  our  expe- 
dition miraculously  well,  considering  all  our  dis- 
tresses. If  you  love  good  roads,  conveniences, 
good  inns,  plenty  of  postillions  and  horses,  be  so 
kind  as  never  to  go  into  Sussex.  We  thought 
ourselves  in  the  northest  part  of  England ;  the 
whole  county  has  a  Saxon  air,  and  the  inhabit- 
ants are  savage,  as  if  King  George  the  Second  was 
the  first  monarch  of  the  East  Angles.  Coaches 
grow  there  no  more  than  balm  and  spices :  we 
were  forced  to  drop  our  post-chaise,  that  resembled 

'  "Letters   of   Horace    Walpole."      Ed.    Peter   Cuiiningliam,    1857, 
V(.l.  ii.  pp.  180-181. 


FOURTH  DAY.  153 

nothing  so  much  as  harlequin's  calash,  whicli  was 
occasionally  a  chaise  or  a  baker's  cart.  We  jour- 
neyed over  alpine  mountains" — (Horace,  you  will 
observe,  was,  equally  with  the  evening  journalist 
of  these  happy  times,  not  unaccustomed  to  exag- 
gerate)— "  drenched  in  clouds,  and  thought  of 
harlequin  again,  when  he  was  driving  the  chariot 
of  the  sun  through  the  morning  clouds,  and  was 
so  glad  to  hear  the  aqua  vita  man  crying  a  dram. 
....  I  have  set  up  my  staff,  and  finished  my 
pilgrimages  for  this  year.  Sussex  is  a  great  damper 
of  curiosity." 

Thus  he  prattles  on,  delightfully  describing  the 
peculiarities  of  the  several  places  he  visited  with 
this  Mr.  Chute,  "whom,"  says  he,  "I  have  created 
Straivberry  King-at-ArmsJ'  One  wonders  what 
that  "  mute,  inglorious "  Chute  thought  of  it  all ; 
whether  he  was  as  disgusted  with  Sussex  sloughs 
and  moist  unpleasant  "mountains"  as  his  garrulous 
companion. 

Then  the  pedantic  Doctor  John  Burton,  who 
journeyed  into  Sussex  in  1751,  had  no  less  unfor- 
tunate acquaintance  with  these  miry  ways  than  our 
dilettante  of  Strawberry  Hill.  To  any,  and  these  are 
as  the  sands  of  the  sea-shore  for  multitude,  who  have 
small  Latin  and  less  Greek,  this  traveller's  tale  must 
ever  remain  a  sealed  book ;  for  he  records  in  those 
languages,  scornfully  entreating  those  who  liave  not 
their  acquaintance,  his  views  upon  ways  and  means, 
and  men  and  manners  in  Sussex.  As  thus,  for 
example  — 

"I  fell  immediately  upon  all  that  was  most  bad, 


154 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


upon  a  land  desolate  and  muddy,  whether  inhabited 
by  men  or  beasts  a  stranger  could  not  easily  dis- 
tinguish, and  upon  roads  which  were,  to  explain 
concisely  what  is  most  abominable,  Sussexian.  No 
one  would  imagine  them  to  be  intended  for  the 
people  and  the  public,  but  rather  the  bye-ways  of 
individuals,  or,  more  truly,  the  tracks  of  cattle- 
drivers  ;  for  everywhere  the  usual  footmarks  of  oxen 
appeared,  and  we  too,  who  were  on  horseback,  going 
along  zigzag,  almost  like  oxen  at  plough,  advanced 
as  if  we  were  turning  back,  while  we  followed  out 
all  the  twists  of  the  roads.  .  .  .  My  friend,  I  will 
set  before  you  a  kind  of  problem  in  the  manner  of 
Aristotle : — Why  comes  it  that  the  oxen,  the  swine, 
the  women,  and  all  other  animals  (!)  are  so  long- 
legged  in  Sussex  ?  Can  it  be  from  the  difficulty  of 
pulling  the  feet  out  of  so  much  mud  by  the  strength 
of  the  ankle,  so  that  the  muscles  become  stretched 
as  it  were,  and  the  bones  lengthened  1 "  This  is 
always  the  burden  of  his  doleful  tale.  Presently  he 
arrives  at  the  conclusion  that  the  peasantry  "do  not 
concern  themselves  with  literature  or  philosophy, 
for  they  consider  the  pursuit  of  such  things  to  be 
only  idling,"  which  is  not  so  very  remarkable  a 
trait  after  all  in  the  character  of  an  agricultural 
people. 

Our  author  eventually,  notwithstanding  the  ter- 
rible roads,  arrived  at  Brighthelmstone,  by  way  of 
Lewes,  "just  as  day  was  fading."  It  was,  so  he 
says,  "a  village  on  the  sea-coast,  lying  in  a  valley 
gradually  sloping,  and  yet  deep."  .  .  .  "  It  is  not, 
indeed,  contemptible  as  to  size,  for  it  is  thronged 


FOURTH  DAY. 


155 


with  people,  though  the  inhabitants  are  mostly  very 
needy  and  wretched  in  their  mode  of  living,  occupied 
in  the  employment  of  fishing,  robust  in  their  bodies, 
laborious,  and  skilled  in  all  nautical  crafts,  and,  as  it 
is  said,  terrible  cheats  of  the  custom-house  officers." 
As  who,  indeed,  is  not,  allowing  the  opportunity? 
This  was  before  the  advent  of  the  coaching  era, 
when  the  old  Sussex  carriers  were  performing  their 
laborious  journeys.  First,  the  long,  broad-wheeled 
waggons,  plying  painfully  between  the  more  impor- 
tant towns,  were  introduced,  and  to  them  the  title 
of  "  stage  "  was  first  applied.  Their  rate  of  progres- 
sion was  snail-like.  Persons  were  in  the  habit  of 
travelling  in  company  with  these  conveyances,  form- 
ing a  kind  of  caravan  for  mutual  protection ;  safety 
lay  in  numbers. 

In  1 746  there  was  being  continued  by  the  widow 
of  the  Lewes  carrier  a  weekly  service  between  Lewes 
and  Southwark :  Brighthelmstone  was  not  yet  of 
sufficient  importance  to  warrant  an  extension  of  the 
itinerary  to  the  coast.  Neither,  at  this  time,  was 
the  conveyance  other  than  a  waggon. 

Ten  years  later,  in  1756,  the  Sussex  Weekly 
Advertiser  of  May  12th  contained  the  following 
advertisement : — 

"NOTICE  IS  HEREBY  GIVEN,  that  the  LEWES 
ONE  DAY  STAGE  COACH  or  CHAISE  sets  out  from 
the  Talbot  Inn,  in  the  Borough,  on  Saturday  next,  the 
19th  instant, 

"  When  likewise  the  Brighthelmstone  Stage  begins. 
Performed  (if  God  permit)  by 

JAMES  BATCHELOK." 


156  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

There  is  no  means  of  ascertaining  how  many  hours 
were  occupied  on  the  road  between  Southwark  and 
Lewes,  but  it  apparently  took  two  days  to  reach 
Brighthelmstone,  for  in  May  1757  James  Batchelor 
advertised  his  "two  days'  stage-coach." 

In  the  course  of  time  there  rose  up  a  rival  to 
this  coaching  pioneer,  a  certain  "  J.  Tubb,"  who, 
in  partnership  with  "  S.  Brawne,"  started  in  May 
1762  a 

"LEWES  and  BRIGHTHELMSTON  new  FLYING 
MACHINE  (by  Uckfield),  hung  on  steel  springs,  very 
neat  and  commodious,  to  carry  Four  PassenCtERS,  sets  out 
from  the  Golden  Cross  Inn,  Charing  Cross,  on  Monday,  the 
7th  of  June,  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  will  con- 
tinue Monday's,  Wednesday's,  and  Friday's  to  the  White 
Hart,  at  Lewes,  and  the  Castle,  at  Bi'ighthelmston,  where 
regular  Books  are  kept  for  entering  passenger's  and  par- 
cels ;  will  return  to  London  Tuesday's,  Thursday's,  and 
Saturday's.  Each  Inside  Passenger  to  Lewes,  Thirteen 
Shillings ;  to  Brighthelmston,  Sixteen ;  to  be  allowed 
Fourteen  Pound  Weight  for  Luggage,  all  above  to  pay 
One  Penny  per  Pound  ;  half  the  fare  to  be  paid  at  Booking, 
the  other  at  entering  the  machine.  Children  in  Lap  and 
Outside  Passengers  to  pay  half  price. 


p    „         n      f  J-  TUBB. 
Performed  by  |  g^  ^1^^^^^^." 


Batchelor,  however,  determined  to  be  as  good  a 
man  as  his  opponent,  if  not  even  a  better,  for 
he  started  in  the  succeeding  week,  at  identical 
fares,  "  a  new  large  Flying  Chariot,  with  a  Box  and 
four  horses  (by  Chailey)  to  carry  two  Passengers 
only,  except  three  should  desire  to  go  together." 
The  better  to  crush  the  presumptuous  Tubb,  he  later 


<    'I 
_-    s 

3  Q 


FOURTH  DAY.  157 

on  reduced  his  fares.  Then  ensued  a  diverting,  if  by 
no  means  edifying,  war  of  advertisements  ;  for  Tnbb, 
unwilling  to  be  outdone,  inserted  the  following  in 
the  Leiues  Journal,  November  1762  : — 

"THIS  IS  TO  INFORM  THE  PUBLIC  that,  on 
Monday,  the  ist  of  November  instant,  the  LEWES  and 
BllIGHTHELMSTON  FLYING  MACHINE  began  going 
in  one  day,  and  continues  twice  a  week  during  the  Winter 
Season  to  Lewes  only  ;  sets  out  from  the  White  Hart,  at 
Lewes,  IMondays  and  Thursdays  at  Six  o'clock  in  the 
Morning,  and  returns  from  the  Golden  Cross,  at  Charing 
Cross,  Tuesdays  and  Saturdays,  at  the  same  hour. 

Performed  by  J.  TUBE. 

«  N'.B. — Gentlemen,  Ladies,  and  others,  are  desired  to  look 
narrowly  into  the  ]\Ieanness  and  Design  of  the  other  Flying 
Machine  to  Lewes  and  Brighthelmston,  in  lowering  his 
prices,  whether  'tis  thro'  conscience  or  an  endeavour  to 
suppress  me.  If  the  former  is  the  case,  think  how  you 
have  been  used  for  a  great  number  of  years,  when  he  en- 
grossed the  whole  to  himself,  and  kept  you  two  days  upon 
the  road,  going  iifty  miles.  If  the  latter,  and  he  should  be 
lucky  enough  to  succeed  in  it,  judge  whether  he  wont 
return  to  his  old  prices,  when  you  cannot  help  yourselves, 
and  use  you  as  formerly.  As  I  have,  then,  been  the  re- 
mover of  this  obstacle,  which  you  have  all  granted  by  your 
great  encouragement  to  me  hitherto,  I,  therefore,  hope  for 
the  continuance  of  your  favours,  which  will  entirely  frus- 
trate the  deep-laid  schemes  of  my  great  opponent,  and  lay 
a  lasting  obligation  on, — Your  very  humble  Servant, 

J.  TUBB." 

To  this  replies  Batclielor,  with  an  idea  of  vested 
interests  pertaining  to  himself: — 

"  WHEREAS,   Mr.  Tuisb,  by  an  Advertisement  in  this 
paper  of  Monday  last,  has  thought  fit  to  cast  some  invidious 


158  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

Reflections  upon  me,  in  respect  of  the  lowering  my 
Prices  and  being  two  days  upon  the  Road,  with  other  low 
insinuations,  I  beg  leave  to  submit  the  following  matters 
to  the  calm  Consideration  of  the  Gentlemen,  Ladies,  and 
other  Passengers,  of  what  Degree  soever,  who  have  been 
pleased  to  favour  me,  viz. : — 

"  That  our  Family  first  set  up  the  Stage  Coach  from 
London  to  Lewes,  and  have  continued  it  for  a  long  Series 
of  Years,  from  Father  to  Son  and  other  Branches  of  the 
same  Race,  and  that  even  before  the  Turnpikes  on  the 
Lewes  Road  were  erected  they  drove  their  Stage,  in  the 
Summer  Season,  in  one  day,  and  have  continued  to  do  ever 
since,  and  now  in  the  Winter  Season  twice  in  the  week.^ 
And  it  is  likewise  to  be  considered  that  many  aged  and 
infirm  Persons,  who  did  not  chuse  to  rise  early  in  the 
Morning,  were  very  desirous  to  be  two  Days  on  the  Road 
for  their  own  Ease  and  Conveniency,  therefore  there  was  no 
obstacle  to  be  removed.  And  as  to  lowering  my  prices, 
let  every  one  judge  whether,  when  an  old  Servant  of  the 
Country  perceives  an  Endeavour  to  suppress  and  supplant 
him  in  his  Business,  he  is  not  well  justified  in  taking  all 
measures  in  his  Power  for  his  own  Security,  and  even  to 
oppose  an  unfair  Adversary  as  far  as  he  can,  'Tis,  there- 
fore, hoped  that  the  descendants  of  your  very  ancient 
Servants  will  still  meet  with  your  farther  Encouragement, 
and  leave  the  Schemes  of  our  little  Opponent  to  their 
proper  Deserts. — I  am,  Your  old  and  present  most  obedient 
Servant,  J.  BATCHELOR. 

December  13,   1762." 

The  rivals  both  kept  to  the  road  until  Batchelor 
died  in  1766,  when  his  business  was  sold  to  Tubb, 
who  took  into  partnership  a  Mr.  Davis.  Together 
they  started,  in  1767,  the  "Lewes  and  Brighthelm- 

'  "  Wlio  deiiiges  of  it,  Betsy." 


FOURTH  DAY.  159 

stone  Flys,"  each  carrying  four  passengers,  one  to 
London  and  one  to  Ik'igliton  every  day. 

Tubb  and  Davis  had  in  1770  one  "machine"  and 
one  waggon  on  this  road,  fare  by  "machine"  14s. 
The  machine  ran  daily  to  and  from  London,  starting 
at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  waggon  was 
three  days  on  the  road.  Another  machine  was 
also  running,  but  with  the  coming  of  winter  these 
machines  performed  only  three  double  journeys 
each. 

In  1777  another  stage- waggon  was  started  by 
"Lashmar  &  Co."  It  loitered  between  the  "King's 
Head,"  Southwark,  and  the  "King's  Head,"  Brighton, 
starting  from  London  every  Tuesday  at  the  unearthly 
hour  of  3  A.M.,  and  reaching  its  destination  on 
Thursday  afternoons. 

On  May  31,  1784,  Tubb  and  Davis  put  a  "light 
post-coach"  on  the  road,  running  to  Brighton  one 
day,  returning  to  London  the  next,  in  addition  to 
their  already  running  "  machine  "  and  "  post-coach." 
This  new  conveyance  presumably  made  good  time, 
four  "  insides  "  only  being  carried. 

Four  years  later,  when  Brighton's  sun  of  splendour 
had  begun  to  rise,  there  were  on  the  road  between 
London  and  the  sea  three  "machines,"  three  light 
post-coaches,  two  coaches,  and  two  stage-waggons. 
Tubb  now  disappears,  and  his  firm  becomes  Davis  & 
Co.  Other  proprietors  were  Ibberson  &  Co.,  Brad- 
ford &  Co.,  and  Mr.  Wesson. 

About  1796  coach  offices  were  opened  in  Brighton 
for  the  sole  despatch  of  coaching  business,  the  time 
having  passed  for  the  old  custom  of  starting  from 


i6o 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


inns.  Now,  too,  were  different  tales  to  tell  of  these 
roads,  after  the  Pavilion  had  been  set  in  course  of 
building.     Royalty  and  the  Court  could  not  endure 

to  travel  upon  such  evil 
tracks   as   had   hitherto 
been  the  lot  of  travellers 
to    Brighthelmstone, 
Presently,  instead  of  a 
dearth   of  roads  and   a 
plethora  of  ruts,   there 
became  a  choice  of  good 
highways  and  a  plenty 
of  travellers  upon  them. 
Numerous  coaches  ran 
to  meet  the  demands  of 
the     travelling    public, 
and    these    continually 
increased  in  number  and 
improved    in     speed. 
About    this    time    first 
appear    the    names    of 
Henwood,    Crossweller,     Cuddington,    Pockney,     & 
Harding,  whose  office  was  at  44  East  Street ;  and 
another  firm,  Boulton,  Tilt,  Hicks,  Baulcomb  &  Co., 
at  I  North  Street.     Now,  in  addition  to  the  old  ser- 
vice, ran  a  "night  post-coach"  on  alternate  nights, 
starting  at  10  p.m.  in  the  season.      One  then  went 
to  or  from  London  generally  in  about  eleven  hours,^ 
if  all  went  well.      If  you  could  only  alibrd  a  ride 
in  the  stage-waggon,  why  then  you  were  carried  the 


TOWN   AND   COUNTRY,    17S4. 


'  Coaches  were  timed  at  "  about "  nine  hours,  an  unpleasant  equivoce. 


FOURTH  DAY.  i6i 

distance  by  tlie  accelerated  (!)  waggons  of  this  tiinc 
in  two  days  and  one  night. 

In  1802  a  company,  the  Royal  Brighton  Four 
Horse  Coach  Company,  was  started,  and,  as  compe- 
titors with  the  older  firms,  seems  to  have  aroused 
much  jealousy  and  slander,  if  we  may  believe  the 
following  contemporary  advertisement:  — 

"THE  ROYAL  BRIGHTON  Four  Horse  Coach  Com- 
pany beg  leave  to  return  their  sincere  thanks  to  their  Friends 
and  the  Pubhc  in  general  for  the  very  liberal  support  they 
have  experienced  since  the  starting  of  their  Coaches,  and 
assure  them  it  will  always  be  their  greatest  study  to  have 
their  Coaches  safe,  with  good  Horses  and  sober  careful 
Coachmen. 

"  They  likewise  wish  to  rectify  a  report  in  circulation  of 
their  Coach  having  been  overturned  on  Monday  last,  by 
which  a  gentleman's  leg  was  broken,  &c.,  no  such  thing 
having  ever  happened  to  either  of  their  Coaches.  The  Fact 
is  it  was  one  of  the  Blue  Coaches  instead  of  the  Royal 
New  Coach. 

"  *^*  As  several  mistakes  have  happened,  of  their  friends 
being  booked  at  other  Coach  offices,  they  ai'e  requested  to 
book  themselves  at  the  ROYAL  NEW  COACH  OFFICE, 
CATHERINE'S  HEAD,  47  East  Street." 

In  an  advertisement  offering  for  sale  a  portion  of 
the  coaching  business  at  No.  i  North  Street,  it  was 
stated  that  the  annual  returns  of  this  firm  were  more 
than  ^12,000  per  annum,  yielding  from  Christmas 
1794  to  Christmas  1808  seven  and  a  half  per  cent, 
on  the  capital  invested,  besides  purchasing  the  in- 
terest of  four  of  the  partners  in  the  concern.  In 
this  last  year  two  new  businesses  were  started,  those 

L 


i62  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

of  Waldegrave  &  Co.,  and  Pattenden  &  Co.  Fares 
now  ruled  high— 23s.  inside  ;   13s.  outside. 

In  1809  Crossweller  &  Co.  commenced  to  run 
their  "morning  and  night"  coaches,  and  "Miller" 
Bradford  formed  his  company,  of  which  mention  has 
been  made  in  earher  pages. ^  In  the  following  year 
the  "Koyal  Night  Mail  Coaches"  were  started  by 
arrangement  with  the  Postmaster-General.  The 
speed,  although  greatly  improved,  was  not  yet  so 
very  great,  eight  hours  being  occupied  on  the  way, 
although  these  coaches  went  by  what  was  then  the 
new  cut  vid  Croydon.  It  was  in  this  year,  on  June 
25,  that  an  accident  befell  Waldegrave's  "  Accommo- 
dation "  coach  on  its  up  journey.  Near  Brixton 
Causeway  its  hind  wheels  collapsed,  owing  to  the 
heavy  weight  of  the  loaded  vehicle.  By  one  of 
those  strange  chances  when  truth  appears  stranger 
than  fiction,  there  chanced  to  be  a  farmer's  waggon 
passing  the  coach  at  the  instant  of  its  overturning. 
Into  it  were  shot  the  "  outsides,"  fortunate  in  this 
comparatively  easy  fall.  Still,  shocks  and  bruises 
were  not  few,  and  one  gentleman  had  his  thigh 
broken. 

By  June  181 1  traffic  had  so  grown  that  there  were 
then  no  fewer  than  twenty-eight  coaches  running  be- 
tween Brighton  and  London.  On  February  5th  in  the 
following  year  occurred  the  only  great  road  robbery 
known  on  this  road.  This  was  the  theft  from  the 
"lUue  "  coach  of  a  package  of  bank-notes  represent- 
ing a  sum  of  between  three  and  four  thousand 
pounds  sterling.      Crosswellers  were  proprietors  of 

^  Page  19. 


FOURTH  DAY.  163 

the  coach,  and  from  them  Messrs.  Brown,  Lashmar, 
&  West,  of  the  Brighton  Union  Bank,  hired  a  box 
beneath  the  seat  for  the  conveyance  of  remittances 
to  and  from  London.  On  tliis  day  the  Bank's  Lon- 
don correspondents  placed  these  notes  in  the  box  for 
transmission  to  Brighton,  but  on  arrival  the  box 
was  found  to  have  been  broken  open  and  the  notes 
all  stolen.  It  would  seem  that  a  carefully  planned 
conspiracy  had  been  entered  into  by  several  persons, 
who  must  have  had  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
means  by  which  the  Union  Bank  sent  and  received 
money  to  and  from  the  metropolis.  On  this  morn- 
ing six  persons  were  booked  for  inside  places.  Of 
this  number  two  only  made  an  appearance — a  gentle- 
man and  a  lady.  Two  gentlemen  were  picked  up  as 
the  coach  proceeded.  The  lady  was  taken  suddenly 
ill  when  Sutton  was  reached,  and  she  and  her 
husband  were  left  at  the  inn  there.  When  the 
coach  arrived  at  Reigate  the  two  remaining  pas- 
sengers went  to  inquire  for  a  friend.  Returning 
shortly,  they  told  the  coachman  that  the  friend 
whom  they  had  supposed  to  be  at  Brighton  had 
returned  to  town,  therefore  it  was  of  no  use  ])ro- 
ceeding  further. 

Thus  the  coachman  and  guard  had  the  remainder 
of  the  journey  to  themselves,  while  the  cash-box, 
as  was  discovered  at  the  journey's  end,  was  minus 
its  cash.  A  reward  of  ^300  was  immediately 
offered  for  information  that  would  lead  to  recovery 
of  the  notes.  This  was  subsequently  altered  to 
an  offer  of  100  guineas  for  information  of  the 
offender,    in     addition    to    ^300    upon    recovery    of 


i64  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

the  total  amount,  or  "ten  per  cent,  upon  the 
amount  of  so  much  thereof  as  shall  be  recovered." 
The  reward-money  was  never  paid,  neither  were 
the  thieves  ever  discovered. 

Mr.  Whitchurch  started  in  1813  a  coach  which 
ran  from  London  to  Brighton,  and  returned  the 
same  day,  time  each  way,  six  hours ;  calling  up  a 
rival,  the  "  Eclipse,"  which  performed  the  journey  in 
the  same  time.  Competition  was  now  very  severe, 
fares  being  reduced  to,  inside  ten  shillings,  outside 
five  shillings.  Indeed,  in  1816,  a  number  of  Jews 
started  a  coach  which  was  to  run  from  London 
to  Brighton  in  six  hours,  or,  failing  to  keep  time, 
was  to  forfeit  all  fares.  After  it  had  run  for  three 
months,  an  information  was  laid  against  it  for 
furious  driving,  when  speed  was  reduced. 

The  mails,  meanwhile,  maintained  a  crawling  pace 
of  a  little  over  six  miles  an  hour,  a  sort  of  dignified, 
no-hurry,  governmental  progression. 

Racing  now  became  so  common  between  stage- 
coaches, that  proprietors  were  obliged  to  issue 
notices,  to  reassure  the  timid,  that  rival  racing 
would  not  be  allowed  to  continue.  But  accidents 
ivoidd  happen.  The  "  Coburg "  was  upset  at 
Cuckfield  in  August  1819,  Six  of  the  passengers 
were  so  much  injured  that  they  could  proceed  no 
farther,  and  one  of  them  died  on  the  following 
day.  The  "  Coburg  "  was  one  of  the  old-fashioned 
stage-coaches,  heavy,  clumsy,  and  slow,  carrying 
six  passengers  inside  and  twelve  outside.  This 
type  gave  way  to  coaches  of  lighter  build  about 
1823.     "  ^'iator   Junior,"   writing   in    the    Sporting 


FOURTH  DAY.  165 

Magazine  of  1828,  says,  "Great  as  the  improvement 
made  in  modern  travelling  has  everywhere  been,  it 
has  on  no  road  been  more  conspiciions  than  on  tliat 
between  Brighton  and  the  metropolis.  Twenty 
years  ago,  the  quickest  coaches  never  performed 
the  journey  in  less  than  nine  and  a  half  or  ten 
hours ;  and  although  still  a  young  man,  I  can 
perfectly  remember  my  father  relating  as  an  exploit, 
that  he  had  posted,  on  a  most  particular  and 
express  occasion,  to  his  own  door,  four  miles  short 
of  London,  in  eight  hours.  It  is  needless  to  tell 
your  readers  that  every  coach  now  runs  from  yard 
to  yard  in  seven,  and  some  of  them,  the  quickest, 
in  less  than  six  hours." 

Two  years  before  those  words  were  written,  in 
1826,  there  ran,  according  to  Gary,  that  coaching 
Cocker,  seventeen  coaches,  starting  for  Brighton 
from  London  every  morning,  afternoon,  or  evening. 
They  had  all  of  them  the  most  high-sounding  of 
names,  calculated  to  impress  the  mind  either  with 
a  sense  of  swiftness,  or  to  awe  the  understanding 
with  visions  of  aristocratic  and  court-like  grandeur. 
As  for  the  times  they  individually  made,  and  for 
the  inns  from  which  they  started,  you  who  are 
insatiable  of  dry  bones  of  fact  may  go  to  the  Library 
of  the  British  Museum  and  find  your  Cary  (with- 
out an  "  e  ")  and  do  your  gnawing  of  them.  That 
they  started  at  all  manner  of  hours,  even  the 
most  uncanny,  you  must  rest  assured ;  and  that 
they  took  off  from  the  (to  ourselves)  most  im- 
possible and  romantic-sounding  of  inns,  may  be 
granted,    when    such    examples    as    the    strangely 


i66  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

incongruous  "  George  and  Blue  Boar,"  the  Her- 
rick-like  "Blossoms"  Inn,  and  the  idyllic-seeming 
•'Flower-pot"  are  mentioned. 

They  were,  those  seventeen  coaches,  the  "  Royal 
Mail,"\he  "Coronet,"  "Magnet,"  "Comet,"  "Royal 
Sussex,"  "Sovereign,"  "Alert,"  "Dart,"  "Union," 
"Regent,"  "Times,"  "Duke  of  York,"  "Royal 
George,"  "True  Blue,"  "Patriot,"  "Post,"  and  the 
"  Summer  Coach,"  so  called,  and  they  started  from 
the  City  and  Holborn  mostly,  calling  at  West  End 
booking-offices  on  their  several  ways.  Most  of  the 
old  inns  from  which  they  set  out  are  pulled  down, 
and  the  memory  of  them  has  faded. 

The  "Golden  Cross"  at  Charing  Cross,  from  whose 
doors  started  the  "Comet"  and  the  "Regent"  in 
this  year  of  grace  1826,  and  at  which  the  "Times" 
called  on  its  way  from  Holborn  ;  the  "  White  Horse," 
Fetter  Lane,  whence  the  "  Duke  of  York  "  bowled 
away :  these  two  old  inns  retain  something,  though 
little,  of  their  old-time  look ;  but  the  only  one  which 
still  wears  very  much  the  same  expression  as  when 
the  "  Alert,"  the  "  Union,"  and  the  "  Times  "  drew 
up  daily  at  its  old-fashioned  galleried  courtyard  is 
the  Old  Bell  and  Crown  Inn,  Holborn.  Were  Viator 
to  return  to-morrow,  he  would  find  little  change  in 
the  inn's  appearance,  xlround  him  would  be,  to  his 
senses,  an  astonishing  whirl  and  noise  of  traffic,  for 
all  the  wood-paving  that  has  superseded  macadam, 
which  itself  displaced  the  road-paving  he  knew. 
Many  strange  and  horrid  portents  he  would  note, 
and  Holborn  would  be  to  him  as  an  unknown  street 
in  a  strange  town,  saving  only  the  "  Old  Bell  and 


FOURTH  DAY.  167 

Crown"  and  a  few  other  buildings  close  by,  wliicii 
have  escaped  the  Scytlicman  thus  far. 

Than  1826  the  infornuitive  Cary  goes  no  further, 
and  his  "  Itinerary,"  excellent  though  it  be,  and  in- 
valuable to  he  who  would  know  aught  of  the  coaches 
that  plied  in  the  years  when  it  was  published,  gives 
no  particulars  of  the  many  "butterfly"  coaches  and 
amateur  drags  that  cut  in  upon  the  regular  coaches 
during  the  rush  and  scour  of  the  season. 

In  1 82 1  it  was  computed  that  over  forty  coaches 
ran  to  and  from  London  daily;  in  September  1822 
there  were  thirty-nine.  In  1828  it  was  calculated 
that  the  sixteen  permanent  coaches  then  running, 
summer  and  winter,  received  between  them  a  sum 
of  ^60,000  per  annum,  and  the  total  sum  expended 
in  fares  upon  coaching  on  this  road  was  taken  as 
amounting  to  ^100,000  per  annum.  That  leaves 
the  very  respectable  amount  of  ^40,000  for  the 
season's  takings  of  the  "butterflies." 

An  accident  happened  to  the  "  Alert "  on  gtli 
October  1829,  when  the  coach  was  taking  up  pas- 
sengers at  Brighton.  The  horses  ran  away,  and 
dashed  the  coach  and  themselves  into  an  area 
sixteen  feet  deep.  The  coach  was  battered  almost 
to  pieces,  and  one  lady  was  seriously  injured.  The 
horses  escaped  unhurt.  In  1832,  August  25,  the 
Brighton  mail  was  upset  near  Reigate,  the  coach- 
man being  killed. 

By  1839  the  coaching  business  had  in  Brighton 
become  concentrated  in  Castle  Square,  six  of  the 
seven  principal  offices  being  situated  there.  Five 
London  coaches  ran  from  the  Blue  Office  (Strcvens 


i68  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

k  Co.),  five  from  the  Red  Office  (Mr.  Goodman's), 
four  from  the  "Spread  Eagle"  (Chaplin  k  Crun- 
den's),  three  from  the  Age  (T.  AV.  Capps  &  Co.), 
two  from  Hine's,  East  Street;  two  from  Snow's 
(Capps  k  Chaplin),  and  two  from  the  "  Globe"  (Mr. 
Vaughan's). 

To  state  the  number  of  visitors  to  Brighton  on  a 
certain  day  will  give  an  idea  of  how  well  this  road 
was  used  during  the  decade  that  preceded  the  coming 
of  steam.  On  Friday,  25th  October  1833,  upwards 
of  480  persons  travelled  to  Brighton  by  stage-coach. 
A  comparison  of  this  number  with  the  hordes  of 
visitors  cast  forth  from  the  Brighton  Railway  Station 
to-day  would  render  insignificant  indeed  that  little 
crowd  of  1833  ;  but  in  those  times,  when  the  itch  of 
excursionising  was  not  so  acute  as  now,  that  day's 
return  was  remarkable ;  it  was  a  day  that  fully 
justified  the  note  made  of  it.  Then,  too,  those 
few  hundreds  benefited  the  town  more  certainly  than 
perhaps  their  number  multiplied  by  ten  does  now. 
For,  mark  you,  the  Brighton  visitor  of  sixty  years 
ago,  once  set  down  in  Castle  Square,  had  to  remain 
the  night  at  least  at  Brighton ;  there  was  no  return- 
ing to  London  the  same  day  for  him.  And  so  the 
Brighton  folks  had  their  wicked  will  of  him  for 
a  while,  and  made  something  out  of  him ;  while  in 
these  times  the  greater  proportion  of  a  day's  excur- 
sionists find  themselves  either  at  home  in  London 
already  when  evening  hours  are  striking  from  West- 
minster Ben,  or  else  waiting  with  what  patience 
they  may  the  collecting  of  tickets  at  the  bleak  and 
dismal  penitentiary  platforms    of   Grosvenor   Road 


Mi 


g  4 


■7.    i" 


FOURTH  DAY.  169 

Station  ;  and,  after  all,  Brighton  is  little  or  nothing 
advantaged  by  their  visit. 

But  though  the  tripper  of  the  coaching  era  found 
it  impracticable  to  have  his  morning  in  London,  his 
day  upon  the  King's  Road,  and  his  evening  in  town 
again,  yet  the  pace  at  which  the  coaches  went  in 
the  '30's  was  by  no  means  despicable.  Mail-coaches 
going  at  ten  miles  an  hour,  a  better  rate  of  pro- 
gression than  even  "Viator  Junior"  could  speak 
of,  were  now  become  slow  and  altogether  behind 
the  age. 

In  1843  the  Marquis  of  Worcester,  together  with 
a  Mr.  i^L^xander,  put  three  coaches  on  the  road,  an 
up  and  down  "Quicksilver"  and  a  single  coach,  the 
"Wonder."  The  "Quicksilver,"  named  probably  in 
allusion  to  its  swiftness  (it  was  timed  for  four  hours 
and  three-quarters),  ran  to  and  from  what  was  then  a 
favourite  stopping-place,  the  "  Elephant  and  Castle." 
But  on  July  15th  of  the  same  year  an  accident,  by 
which  several  persons  were  very  seriously  injured, 
happened  to  the  up  "Quicksilver"  when  starting 
from  Brighton.  Snow,  who  was  driving,  could  not 
hold  the  team  in,  and  they  bolted  away,  and  brought 
up  violently  against  the  railings  by  the  New  Steyne. 
Broken  arms,  fractured  arms  and  ribs,  and  con- 
tusions were  plenty.  The  "Quicksilver,"  chameleon- 
like, changed  colour  after  this  mishap;  was  repainted 
and  renamed,  and  reappeared  as  the  "  Criterion  : " 
the  old  name  carried  with  it  too  great  a  spice  of 
danger  for  the  timorous. 

On  4th  February  1834  the  "Criterion,"  driven  by 
Charles  Harbour,  outstripping  the  old  perforniaiices 


170 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


of  the  "  Vivid,"  and  beating  the  previous  wonder- 
fully quick  journey  of  the  "Red  Rover,"  carried 
down  King  William's  Speech  on  the  opening  of 
Parliament  in  3  hours  and  40  minutes,  a  coach 
record  that  has  not  yet  been  surpassed,  nor  quite 
equalled,  on  this  road,  not  even  by  Selby  on  his 
great  drive  of  13th  July  1888,  his  times  being  out 
and  in  respectively,  3  hours  56  minutes,  and  3  hours 
54  minutes.  Then  again,  on  another  road,  on  May- 
Day  1830,  the  "  Independent  Tally-ho,"  running 
from  London  to  Birmingham,  covered  those  109 
miles  in  7  hours  39  minutes,  a  better  record  than 
Selby's  London  to  Brighton  and  back  drive  by  11 
minutes,  with  an  additional  mile  to  the  course. 
Another  coach,  the  "Original  Tally-ho,"  did  the 
same  distance  in  7  hours  50  minutes.  The  "Cri- 
terion "  fared  ill  under  its  new  name  ;  it  gained  an 
unenviable  notoriety  on  7th  June  1834;  being  over- 
turned in  a  collision  with  a  drag  in  the  Borough. 
Many  of  the  passengers  were  injured  ;  Sir  William 
Cosway,  who  was  climbing  over  the  roof  when  the 
collision  occurred,  was  killed. 

In  1839,  the  coaching  era,  full-blown  even  to 
decay,  began  to  pewk  and  wither  before  the  coming 
of  steam,  long  heralded  and  now  but  too  sure.  The 
tale  of  coaches  now  decreased  to  twenty-three ;  fares, 
which  had  fallen  in  the  cut-throat  competition  of 
coach  proprietors  with  their  fellows  in  previous  years 
to  I  OS.  inside,  5  s.  outside  for  the  single  journey,  now 
rose  to  2 IS.  and  12s.  Every  man  that  horsed  a 
coach,  seeing  that  now  was  the  shearing  time  for 
the  public,  ere  the  now  building  railway  was  opened, 


r    •J. 


FOURTH  DAY.  17 r 

strove  to  make  as  much  as  possible  ere  he  closed  his 
yards,  sold  his  stock  and  coach,  and  took  himself  off 
the  road. 

On  2ist  September  1841  the  railway  was  opened 
from  London  to  Brighton,  and  with  that  event  the 
coaching  era  on  this  road  virtually  died.  Profes- 
sional coach  proprietors,  who  wished  to  retain  what 
gains  they  had,  were  well  advised  to  shun  all  com- 
petition with  steam  ;  others  had  been  wise  to  cut 
their  losses,  for  the  lload  was  a  thing  of  the  past : 
the  Rail  had  superseded  it. 

In  the  prime  era  of  coaching  on  this  road  a  writer 
who  adopted  the  pseudonym  of  "  Viator  Junior," 
wrote  two  papers  upon  its  coaches  and  coachmen. 

They  are  so  admirable  that  merely  to  have  made 
quotations  from  them  w^ould  have  been  to  spoil  their 
peculiar  flavour.  Captain  Malet  has  reprinted  them 
in  his  "Annals  of  the  Road;"  but  as  they  deal 
especially  with  the  Brighton  Road,  no  apology  seems 
necessary  for  their  reproduction  here. 

They  appeared  originally  in  the  S2^ortbuj  Maga- 
zine. 

"THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

I. 

"  October  1^2?,. 

"  Great  as  the  improvement  in  modern  travelling 
has  everywhere  been,  it  has  on  no  road  been  more 
conspicuous  than  on  that  between  Brighton  and  the 
metropolis.  Twenty  years  ago  the  quickest  coaches 
never  performed  the  journey  in  less  than  nine  hours 
and  a  half  or  ten  hours;   and  altliough  still  a  young 


172  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

man,  I  can  perfectly  remember  my  father's  relating 
as  an  exploit  that  he  had  posted  on  a  most  par- 
ticular and  express  occasion  to  his  own  door,  four 
miles  short  of  London,  in  eight  hours  !  It  is  need- 
less to  tell  your  readers  that  every  coach  now 
runs  yard  to  yard  in  seven,  and  some  of  them,  the 
quickest,  in  less  than  six  hours.  It  is  not  at  all 
unusual  to  see  Mr.  Snow's  Dart  at  the  '  Elephant 
and  Castle '  at  a  quarter-past  eleven,  having  left 
Brighton  at  six ;  and  several  others — Goodman's 
coaches  and  the  Ite7n,  for  instance — keep  the  same 
time. 

"  Within  my  recollection  the  Brighton  B-oad  was 
always  a  good  one ;  but  from  the  innumerable  im- 
provements made  on  it  during  the  last  ten  or  twelve 
years,  it  is  now  as  close  to  perfection,  and  very 
nearly  as  much  shortened,  as  it  ever  can  be.  On 
neither  of  the  new  lines  of  road  is  there  occasion 
more  than  twice  or  thrice  for  the  drag-chain,  even 
with  the  most  stiff-necked  team  ;  and  the  old  road, 
with  the  exception  of  Ileigate  and  Clayton  Hills 
(which  are  certainly  puzzles  for  a  fresh-catched  one 
to  take  a  load  either  up  or  down),  is  equally  free 
from  difficulty  or  danger ;  and  both  are  capitally 
hard  and  good  for  wheels  at  all  seasons  of  the 
year ! 

"This  excellence  of  the  roads,  however,  has  pro- 
duced one  defect — it  has  nearly  annihilated  the 
breed  of  coachmen  between  Brighton  and  London. 
Out  of  a  list  of  forty-five  that  I  have  now  before  me, 
who  are  regularly  at  work,  there  are  not  more  than 
seven   or  eight  who   are   worth  looking  at  as   real 


FOURTH  DAY.  173 

artists — ivorhmen  ivlio  can  hit  'em  and  hold  'cm — 
and  I  could  name  more  than  one  or  two  of  the  h)t 
who  are,  even  on  such  a  road  as  this,  unfit  to  be 
trusted  with  the  lives  of  their  passengers,  and  totally 
incompetent  to  take  along  a  heavy  load  in  safety  at 
the  pace  at  which  their  coaches  are  timed.  This 
very  day  I  saw  one  of  '  the  awkward  squad '  keep 
his  coach  on  her  legs  by  pure  accident,  in  bringing 
her  with  a  heavy  load  round  the  corner  by  the 
King's  Stables ;  and  as  his  attitude  was  rather 
good,  I'll  endeavour  to  describe  it.  His  bench  was 
very  low,  and  he  himself  is  rather  a  tall  man  ;  his 
legs,  tucked  under  him  as  far  as  possible,  were  as 
wide  apart  as  if  he  was  across  one  of  his  wheelers  ; 
both  hands  had  hold  of  his  reins,  which,  though 
perfectly  slack,  were  all  but  within  his  teeth  :  his 
whip  was  stuck  beside  him  (in  general,  however,  it 
is  hanging  down  between  his  wheel-horses  about 
the  middle  of  the  foot-board)  ;  and,  to  complete  the 
picture,  his  mouth  was  gaping  wide  open,  like 
Curran's  Irishman  endeavouring  to  catch  the  English 
accent.  South  of  York  I  have  not  often  seen  this 
man's  fellow ;  but  surely  Providence  must  keep  a 
most  especial  guard  over  him,  for  I  understand 
he  has  worked  for  some  years  on  the  same  coach 
without  an  accident;  and,  judging  from  appear- 
ances, it  is  a  daily  miracle  that  he  gets  to  his 
journey's  end. 

"  Not  long  ago,  too,  I  had  tlie  fortune  of  witness- 
ing, as  a  passenger,  one  or  two  hair-breadth  escapes 
on  one  of  the  professed  flash  afternoon-coaches. 
First  or  last,  I  never  saw  a  fellow  with  more  conceit 


174  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

and  less  knowledge  of  the  art  than  our  self-styled 
coachman ;  and  I  could  not  help  thinking  it  a  great 
pity  to  have  deprived  the  shop-board  of  his  services 
to  expose  him  on  the  bench.  We  were  very  near 
having  a  case  with  our  first  team  out  of  Brighton. 
Both  his  wheel-horses  were  bad  holders,  and  the 
leaders  (both  of  them  thoroughbred)  were  impatient 
and  fidgety  at  the  rattling  of  the  bars,  and  could 
not  be  kept,  at  least  my  friend  could  not  keep  them, 
out  of  a  canter.  He  put  his  chain  on  down  the  hill 
by  New  Timber,  and  all  was  right  enough  ;  but  being 
too  busy  with  his  cigar  (the  march  of  intellect ! ! !), 
he  let  his  team  get  well  on  the  crown  of  the  hill, 
just  above  his  change,  before  he  attempted  to  pull 
up  :  the  consequence  was,  they  could  not  be  stopped, 
and  away  we  went.  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying, 
with  a  top-heavy  load,  or  with  anything  like  a  ditch 
at  hand,  nothing  could  have  saved  us  from  being 
floored ;  for,  from  his  awkward  pulling  and  hauling 
at  them  (he  had  his  reins  clubbed  into  the  bargain), 
instead  of  keeping  his  coach  steady  in  the  middle 
of  the  road,  we  were  alternately  in  the  watercourse 
on  each  side,  and  we  pulled  up  at  last  only  in 
consequence  of  the  horses  getting  to  their  own 
stable  door.  In  his  next  team  a  little  fanning  was 
necessary ;  and  Dominie  Samjjson  himself  could 
not  have  made  a  more  diabolical  attempt  at  hitting 
a  near  leader.  I  can  scarcely,  however,  expect  to 
be  believed  when  I  tell  you  that  he  actually  hit  his 
off-side  passenger  on  the  roof  behind  him  every  time 
he  endeavoured  to  hit  his  off-side  wheel-horse.  Such, 
nevertheless,  was  the  fact.     But  to  cut  a  long  story 


FOURTH  DAY.  175 

short,  we  got  to  London  safe  and  sound  in  rather 
more  than  six  hours,  having  been  in  jeopardy  of  our 
lives  the  whole  time. 

"  Now  I  would  not  have  you  imagine,  Mr.  Editor, 
that  I  am  more  nervous  on  a  coach-box  than  my 
neighbours :  on  the  contrary,  having  been  much 
attached  to,  and  worked  a  great  deal  on,  the  road 
ever  since  I  was  the  height  of  a  whip,  I  have  no 
reason  to  be  so  ;  but  I  must  confess  that  with  such 
'  impostors '  it  is  rather  nervous  work,  and  I  think 
no  coachmaster  is  warranted  in  committing  the  lives 
of  his  customers,  the  public,  to  such  incompetent 
hands.  I  shall  keep  my  eye  on  one  or  two  of  these 
'  flying  Brightons,'  and  if  there  is  not  an  alteration, 
and  an  improvement  too,  before  long,  I  will  show 
up  the  delinquents,  both  master  and  servant,  by 
name. 

"  There  is  a  very  old  and  good  servant  of  the  public 
still  at  work  on  this  road,  whose  long  and  praise- 
worthy career  deserves  to  be  recorded  ;  his  name  is 
Hine,  and  though  never  a  first-rate  performer,  has 
been,  as  far  back  as  I  can  remember,  from  his  con- 
stant sobriety,  civility,  and  steadiness,  the  chief 
favourite  (especially  with  families)  on  the  old  Reigate 
and  Clayton  road.  When  I  first  knew  him,  fully 
twenty  years  ago,  he  had  been  for  a  great  length  of 
time  on  Orton  and  Bradford's  coach,  which  gradually 
declined  after  he  left  it,  out  of  the  Bull  Yard, 
Holborn  ;  and  it  is  only  within  the  last  fourteen 
years  that  he  has  turned  '  rioter '  ^  on  the  coach 
which  he  now  drives,  the  Alert,  and  a  capital  coach 

1  Proprietur. 


176  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

it  is.  I  should  be  happy  to  take  an  even  bet  that  he 
has  carried  more  families  for  the  last  ten  years  than 
any  other  three  coachmen  out  of  Brighton;  and  I 
am  delighted  to  see  the  old  man  still  in  good  health, 
and  feathering  his  nest  so  comfortably. 

"  Goodman's  Times  and  Regent  are  among  the 
best-horsed  coaches  going,  and,  from  what  I  can 
see,  have  their  full  share  of  business.  Sam,  how- 
ever, himself,  though  a  tolerable  coachman,  is  not  to 
be  named  in  the  same  day  with  Mr.  Snow ;  but  it 
must  be  allowed  that  few  can  equal,  and  none,  not 
even  Peer  himself  or  Bill  Williams,  can  excel  this 
great  artist.  It  is  quite  a  treat  to  compare  his  per- 
fect ease  and  elegant  attitude  on  his  box  in  turning 
out  of  the  'Sjoread  Eagle'  yard  in  Gracechurch  Street, 
with  the  uncouth  gestures  and  awkward  catchings 
and  cla wings  of  some  of  his  brethren — his  own  man, 
Ned  Russell,  for  instance.  Ned,  however,  once  started 
over  London  Bridge,  is  not  worse  than  some  of  his 
neighbours.  Gray,  on  the  Regent,  is  a  very  fair, 
steady  coachman.  I  remember  him  fourteen  or 
fifteen  years  ago  on  a  very  seedy  concern  called  the 
Princess  of  Wales,  through  Horsham  ;  and  having 
had  my  eye  a  good  deal  on  him  since  that  period, 
I  have  no  hesitation  in  pronouncing  him  a  very 
efficient  coachman,  and  a  most  excellent  servant  in 
every  respect.  Mosely,  too,  who  used  to  be  against 
him  on  the  same  road  on  the  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
and  is  now  at  work  on  Goodman's  mid-day  Times, 
is  nothing  less  than  a  very  capital  performer. 

*'  Of  Mr.  Stevenson,  as  I  have  never  seen  enough 
of  him  at  work  to  enable  me  to  judge,  I  shall  of 


FOURTH  DAY.  177 

course  say  nothing ;  but  he  has  the  reputation  of 
being  a  good  coachman,  and  I  wish  him  success. 
He  is  warmly  patronised  by  the  public,  which,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  has  had  the  effect  of  creating  a  good 
deal  of  illiberality  and  jealousy  against  him  with 
some  of  the  other  coachmen ;  and  T  took  the  liberty 
of  giving  one  of  them  with  whom  I  was  travelling 
the  other  day  a  good  jobation  for  his  selfishness  and 
impertinence. 

"As  I  hold  all  safety  patents  about  coaches  ex- 
ceedingly cheap,  I  have  not  given  myself  the  trouble 
of  examining  '  Cook's  Patent  Life  Preserver,'  which 
is  fitted  to  Mr.  Gray's  '  Bolt-in-Tun '  coach,  the 
Patriot;  but  I  will  relate  a  rather  good  anecdote 
of  an  incident  of  which  I  was  a  witness  a  few  days 
ago.  Just  as  Pickett  was  starting  with  his  '  Union ' 
coach  out  of  Holborn,  up  comes  a  fussy  old  citizen, 
puffing  and  blowing  like  a  grampus  :  '  Pray,  coach- 
man, is  this  here  the  Patriotic  Life  Preserver  Safety- 
coach  ? '  '  Yes,  sir,'  says  Pickett,  not  hearing  above 
one-half  of  his  passenger's  question  ;  '  room  behind, 
sir  ;  jump  up,  if  you  please  ;  very  late  this  morning.' 
'  Why,  where's  the  machinery  ? '  cries  the  old  one. 
•  There,  sir,'  replied  a  passenger  (a  young  Cantab,  I 
suspect),  pointing  to  a  heavy  trunk  of  mine  that  was 
swung  beneath ;  '  in  that  box,  sir,  that's  where  the 
machinery  works.'  '  Ah  ! '  quoth  the  old  man,  climb- 
ing up  quite  satisfied,  '  wonderful  inventions  now-a- 
days,  sir;  we  shall  all  get  safe  to  Brighton;  no 
chance  of  an  accident  by  this  coach.' 

"Doubtless  it  would  have  been  no  very  difficult 
task  to  have  persuaded  this  old  fool  that  we  were 

M 


178  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

going  by  steam  ;  for  the  day  was  wet,  and  the  cigars 
were  smoking  most  merrily  in  front  all  the  road 
down. 

"Few  of  your  readers,  I  dare  say,  have  an  idea 
of  the  money  that  is  annually  dropped  on  this 
favourite  road.  There  are  at  this  moment  (in  the 
height  of  the  season)  twenty-four  coaches  (including 
the  mail)  out  of  Brighton,  with  a  corresponding 
number  out  of  London,  every  day.  Now,  at  a 
moderate  computation,  sixteen  of  these  at  least  are 
kept  on  through  the  winter ;  and  they  must  each 
of  them  earn  the  whole  year  through  ten  pounds 
daily  to  pay  anything  like  their  expenses  up  and 
down.  These  sixteen  permanent  coaches  alone, 
therefore,  must  receive  nearly  sixty  thousand  pounds 
a  year,  merely  to  keep  them  going ;  and  the  eight 
butterflies,  as  I  have  heard  them  called,  or  summer 
coaches  for  six  months,  must  earn  nearly  fifteen 
thousand  pounds  more  !  Looking,  however,  at  the 
lowness  of  my  calculation  as  to  expense,  and  at 
the  excellent  way-bills  that  most  of  them  carry  both 
summer  and  winter,  I  am  quite  satisfied  that,  in- 
cluding gratuities  to  coachmen,  &c.,  not  a  farthing 
less  than  one  hundred  thousand  pounds  per  annum 
is  spent  by  the  public  between  Brighton  and  Lon- 
don ;  and  for  the  sake  of  the  wheels,  for  which 
I  have  always  been  a  staunch  advocate,  I  wish  it 
were  twice  as  much. 

"  Taking  up  a  newspaper  a  few  days  ago,  I  was 
very  sorry  to  observe  the  death  of  Mr.  Home,  the 
largest  proprietor  by  far  in  England,  and  one  of 
the  best  that  ever  put  a  horse  to  public  conveyance. 


FOURTH  DAY.  179 

The  public  has  sustained  a  great  loss  by  his  decease, 
for  he  conducted  the  whole  of  liis  immense  concern 
in  a  most  creditable  and  spirited  manner  ;  and  his 
coaches,  taken  altogether,  were  better  horsed  than 
those  in  any  other  yard  in  London — my  old  ally, 
Mrs.  Nelson's,  being  always  excepted.  I  have  not 
heard  what  arrangements  are  likely  to  take  place  ; 
but  I  should  think  it  will  be  difficult  to  find  any 
one  customer  with  capital  sufficient  to  take  the 
whole  of  his  various  establishments,  amounting  as 
they  do  almost  to  a  monopoly  of  the  best  roads  out 
of  London. 

"It  is  now  high  time,  I  think,  Mr.  Editor,  to 
bring  these  desultory  remarks  to  a  conclusion.  A 
few  weeks  more,  and  what  has  with  me  been  always 
first  and  first — fox-hunting — will  commence.  I 
am  told  that  the  packs  in  this  neighbourhood  are 
Avell  worth  seeing,  and  that  since  Nimrod's  visit 
there  has  been  a  great  improvement  in  the  Brighton 
harriers.  I  saw  them  in  kennel  about  three  years 
and  a  half  ago,  and  must  confess  that  I  did  not  then 
think  much  of  their  appearance.  Ilowever,  nous 
verrons ;  and  if  I  can  pick  up  anything  in  the  mean- 
time worth  sending,  you  shall  hear  again  from 

"  Viator,  Jun. 

"P.S. — On  looking  over  what  I  have  written, 
I  find  that  I  have  omitted  noticing  what  I  hear 
is  a  very  steady,  quiet,  good  coach — namely,  George 
Sheward's  Magnet.  I  have  not  seen  much  of  it  per- 
sonally, except  into  Londoii ;  but  I  must  do  Sheward 
the  justice  to  say  that,  on  that  ground  at  least,  he  is 


i8o  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

most  magnificently  horsed,  and  I  like  the  appearance 
of  his  coach  altogether  very  much.  Long,  therefore, 
may  the  Mcignet  continue  to  attract!" 

II. 

"November  1828. 

"  In  my  last  letter  to  you,  I  pulled  up,  I  think, 
on  George  Sheward's  Magnet;  and  the  time 
allowed  for  washing  out  our  mouths  being  now 
expired,  I  proceed  once  more  to  take  hold  of  my 
whip  and  reins,  and  '  wag  another  yard  or  two '  on 
the  same  coach,  on  the  '  Brighton  Road.'  I  am 
sorry,  however,  to  say  that  my  '  bill '  is  but  a 
short  one ;  and  still  more  so  to  observe  that  for 
some  time  past  it  has  been  but  too  often  the  case  ; 
and  that  this  very  quick  and  capitally  horsed 
coach  has  fallen  off  for  the  last  two  months  most 
lamentably  and  unaccountably.  Unaccountable  it 
certainly  appears,  for  no  drag  at  the  same  hour 
is  turned  out  better,  if  so  well :  the  time  is  accurately 
kept ;  the  fares  are  the  same  as  all  its  neighbours  ; 
the  coach  itself  affords  the  same  accommodation  for 
passengers.  Yet,  although  all  this,  and  more,  is 
done  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  public,  it  carries 
decidedly  the  worst  loads,  by  far,  of  anything  out 
of  Brighton  or  London,  at  ten  o'clock.  Were  I, 
however,  asked  to  find  out  the  loose  screw,  I 
should  say  in  the  first  place,  that,  coming  out  of 
private  stables  in  London,  instead  of  a  regular 
public  yard,  such  as  the  '  Cross,'  '  Spread  Eagle,' 
'  Bolt-in-Tun,'  &c.  &c.,  militates  very  greatly  against 
eveiy  coach   that  adopts  the  plan,  as  there  cannot 


FOURTH  DAY.  i8i 

be  half  the  power  either  to  form  or  to  hold  '  a 
coniiexiou '  well  together ;  and  chance  custom,  let 
the  friends  of  the  proprietor  or  coachman  be  ever 
so  numerous,  genteel,  or  zealous,  will  go  but  a  short 
way  towards  paying  the  expenses  for  any  great 
length  of  time.  Secondly,  the  perpetual  changing 
and  turning  back  of  the  coachmen  on  the  road 
must  have  annoyed  the  passengers  not  a  little ; 
and  it  has,  moreover,  been  the  means  of  Sheward's 
losing  one  of  the  very  best  waggoners  out  of  Brighton 
— young  Cook — who  was  at  last  so  disgusted  at 
being  thus  shifted  and  bandied  about  '  between 
Hell  and  Hackney,'  that  he  cut  the  concern,  and 
has  taken,  I  have  reason  to  believe,  by  no  means 
a  small  number  of  the  Magnet's  old  friends  to  the 
Regulator,  on  which  he  is  now  at  work. 

"  Sheward  has  played  his  cards  very  ill  in  throw- 
ing this  trump  out  of  his  hand,  for  he  is  not  only 
a  first-rate  coachman,  but  one  of  the  pleasantest 
fellows  to  travel  with  one  can  easily  meet ;  and 
therefore  a  most  dangerous  customer  on  a  cheap 
opposition,  that  starts  half-an-hour  earlier,  and  runs 
to  the  same  end  of  '  the  Village.'  Neither  am  I  by 
any  means  singular  in  the  opinion  that,  had  Sheward 
stuck  to  this  one  coach,  without  having  anything 
to  do  with  The  Age,  it  would  have  been  better 
both  for  him  and  it;  for,  in  point  of  fact,  the 
connexion  is  not  large  enough  for  the  support 
of  both ;  and  as  the  one  robs  the  other,  they 
neither  of  them  load  as  they  should  do,  aud  the 
old  proverb,  'between  two  stools'  is  most  un- 
happily, but  truly,  exemplified.     Splendidly,  indeed, 


i82  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

as  his  side  of  the  last-mentioned  flash  concern  is 
worked  all  through,  and  Corinthian  as  is  the  tout 
ensemble  of  the  turnout,  I  cannot  conceive  that  it 
does  more  than  average  its  expenses,  if  so  ranch  ; 
and  on  many  journeys  within  the  last  month,  I 
know  that  the  up-coaches  have  been  fed  very 
plentifully  from  TJie  New  Dart.  She  ward  knows 
all  this  as  well  as  I  can  tell  him,  and  I  hope  he 
will  take  in  good  part  what  I  have  said,  for  he 
may  be  assured  he  has  my  best  wishes,  and  that 
I  would  gladly  see  his  coaches  doing  as  well  as 
he  himself  could  desire.  I  will  conclude  by  giving 
him  'one  hint  more.'  If  his  down  Magnet  loads 
light,  it  is  a  bad  job  certainly ;  but  let  him  give 
his  stock  the  benefit  of  '  the  chance,'  and  not  wear 
them  out  in  galloping  and  hunting  them  against  a 
cocktail  pair-horse  concern,  that  there  can  be  neither 
honour  nor  profit  in  beating. 

"The  mention  of  The  Age  induces  me  naturally 
to  speak  of  Mr.  Stevenson.  Since  I  last  addressed 
you,  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  this  gentle- 
man at  work,  and  have  seldom,  if  ever,  been  more 
gratified.  I  am  not  aware,  to  quote  a  vulgar 
saying,  if  he  was  'born  with  a  silver  spoon  in  his 
mouth,'  but  I  certainly  think  he  must  have  been 
brought  into  the  world  with  a  whip  and  reins  in 
his  hand,  for  in  point  of  ease  and  elegance  of 
execution  as  a  light  coachman,  he  beats  nineteen 
out  of  twenty  of  the  regular  working  dragsmen 
into  fits,  and,  as  an  amateur,  is  only  to  be  approached 
by  two  or  three  of  the  chosen  few,  whose  names  will 
live  for  ever  in  the  annals  of  the  B.D.C. — Sir  Heniy 


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FOURTH  DAY..  183 

Peyton  and  Mr.  Walker,  for  instance,  ^Mlat  lie 
may  be  with  bad  and  heavy  cattle,  I  will  not  pretend 
to  say ;  but,  judging  from  the  manner  in  which 
his  teams  are  put  together  (and  he  has  some 
awkward  customers  amongst  them),  I  think  nothing 
could  come  much  amiss  to  him.  I  sincerely  hope 
his  side  of  The  Age  is  doing  well ;  and  that  every 
one  of  the  crowd  assembled  in  Castle  Square  three 
times  a  week  to  see  him  start,  may  prove  a  pas- 
senger and  a  friend  to  him  all  through  the  winter. 

"  In  giving  you  the  anecdote  about  Tlie  Patriot 
to  which  I  was  a  witness  on  Pickett's  Union,  in 
my  last  communication,  I  omitted  to  notice  his 
partner,  Egerton,  who  drives  the  other  side  of  this 
(now)  excellent  coach.  In  point  of  manners,  deport- 
ment, and  conversation  he  ranks  far  above  almost 
all  dragsmen  with  whom  I  have  at  any  time  travelled  ; 
and,  if  he  pursues  the  same  obliging  and  unassuming 
mode  of  conducting  himself  (of  which  there  is  little 
doubt),  there  is  no  fear  that  he  will  be  as  popular 
on  the  road  and  as  much  patronised  by  the  public 
as  old  Hine  himself;  and  this,  let  me  tell  him,  is 
not  to  be  attained  by  every  one.  He  was  for  some 
time  at  Avork  out  of  the  '  Spread  Eagle  Yard,'  on 
Chaplin  and  Snow's  Worthing  Sover^eign,  and  left, 
Avhen  he  quitted  that  coach,  a  good  name  behind 
him.  No  man,  indeed,  is  more  highly  spoken  of 
amongst  his  associates ;  and  it  was  only  tlie  other 
day  that  A^'il]iam  Snow  was  regretting  in  my  pre- 
sence that  he  was  not  working  for  tJieir  party,  in- 
stead of  being  where  he  now  is,  and  where  I  liope 
and  think  he  is  doing  as  well  as  his  best  friends 
could  wish. 


i84  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

"  As  I  have  mentioned  William  Snow's  name,  it 
may  be  as  well  to  '  \\\^  in '  my  opinion  of  him,  as  old 
John  Lawrence  would  say,  as  a  dragsman.  Having 
heard  a  great  deal  of  him  as  an  artist,  I  took  an 
opportunity  of  travelling  with  him  a  few  days  ago 
on  the  extra  Dart ;  but,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  I  was 
much  disappointed  in  his  performance,  which,  con- 
sidering his  reputation  as  a  coachman,  I  thought 
extremely  mediocre;  and  he  certainly  has  no  pre- 
tensions to  the  character  of  a  first-rate  workman. 
As  to  a  comparison  with  his  brother  Bob  (which  I 
had  understood  he  had  no  occasion  to  shrink  from), 
there  is  more  coachmanship  and  knowledge  of  the 
art  in  Robert's  little  finger  than  in  all  William's 
body  put  together ;  and,  although  a  very  civil  and 
cheerful  fellow  to  travel  with,  I  cannot  assign  him 
even  an  '  Exeter  class '  in  the  '  honours '  of  drags- 
manship,  but  must  rank  him  only  amongst  the 
6i  TToXXo],  or  '  vulgar  herd,'  as  we  used  to  say  at 
Oxford.  Before  I  dismiss  the  name  of  Snow,  let 
me  express  my  very  great  pleasure  at  the  way  in 
which  the  whole  of  Bob's  coaches  —  the  Dart, 
Comet,  and  Sovereign  —  have  been  loading  this 
season ;  and  if  he  takes  my  advice,  he  will  not  kick 
down  any  part  of  what  he  has  earned  with  them,  by 
continuing  his  horses  on  that  suicidal  night-opposi- 
tion, The  Evening  Star.  Both  he  and  Sam  Good- 
man may  rely  on  it  that  old  Crossweller  does  not  care 
one  button  for  the  harm  it  can  do  the  Mail;  and, 
if  they  keep  it  on  through  the  winter,  their  monthly 
accounts  will  speak  pretty  plainly  for  themselves 
as  to  the  harm  it  will  do  their  own  summer  earn- 
ings.    It  Axill  be  sure,  moreover,  to  make  the  Ite^n  a 


FOURTH  DA  Y.  185 

fixture  on  the  road  (for,  as  they  well  know,  this 
beautifully-horsed  coach  is  in  the  hands  of  a  terribly 
stift'-necked,  obstinate  party  when  once  offended)  ; 
and,  in  winter  time,  when  the  City  swells  are 
behind  their  counters  and  minding  the  shop,  this 
will  be  by  no  means  a  pointless  thorn  in  the  side 
of  Tlie  Dart  and  Neiv  Times.  There  is  a  coach- 
man, by  the  way,  at  work  on  The  Star  who  deserves 
a  better  place  ;  and  1  hope  before  long  that  Bill 
Penny  may  be  seen  once  more  by  daylight ;  for 
where  you  find  one  better,  you  will  travel  with 
twenty  inferior  performers. 

"  And  here  I  may  observe,  that,  in  spite  of  all  that 
NiMROD  brings  forward  to  justify  his  predilection 
for  night-work,  I  cannot  persuade  myself  to  view  it 
in  the  same  favourable  colours,  or  to  consider  the 
life  of  a  night-coachman  an  enviable  one  for  a  con- 
stancy. It  is  all  very  pleasant  for  a  gentleman  on 
a  fine  night,  either  summer  or  winter,  to  work  forty 
or  fifty  miles  on  a  journey  of  business  or  amuse- 
ment (and  I  have  found  as  much  delight  in  doing  so 
as  any  man,  and  have  often  abandoned  my  claret  for 
the  coach-box,  as  poor  Skinner  on  the  Glasgow 
Mail,  from  Boroughbridge  to  Doncaster.  if  alive, 
and  his  partner,  could  testify).  But  when  we  take 
into  account  the  perpetual  privation  of  natural 
repose  (for  no  man,  as  the  Irishman  says,  can  get  a 
good  night's  rest  by  day),  and  the  ravages  on  the 
constitution  produced  by  it  and  incessant  exposure 
to  the  worst  vicissitudes  of  weather  at  the  worst 
periods — the  damps  and  fogs,  and  '  pcltings  of  the 
storm,'  which  these  poor  fellows  have  constantly 
to    endure    in    darkness,  and    sometimes   almost  in 


i86  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

solitude,  ^Yitll  no  one  but  the  guard  and  '  the  mad- 
woman '  about  the  coac-h  ;  to  say  nothing  of  the 
teams — blind  ones,  bow-kickers,  and  cripples  of 
every  description  unfit  to  show  by  day — that  not  a 
few  of  them  have  to  drive  ;  and  the  rotten  reins 
and  worn-out  harness  that  some  proprietors,  to  their 
eternal  shame,  persist  in  keeping  at  work  in  the 
dark ;  when  we  consider  all  this,  I  repeat,  we  shall 
not  find  much  to  envy  in  the  situation  of  a  night- 
coachman.  There  is  '  balm  in  Gilead,'  however,  as 
'  Nicol  Jarvie '  observes  ;  and  where  the  guard  and 
coachman  have  pulled  well  together,  I  have  seen  in 
my  time  an  infinity  of  fun  and  lark  upon  the  road 
between  supper  and  breakfast.  One  night  in  par- 
ticular on  the  Dover  mail — but  this,  and  another 
anecdote  or  two  of  night-work  I  must  reserve  for  a 
future  opportunity,  and  get  back  meantime  to  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Steyne. 

"  I  have  already  spoken  of  Tlie  Begidator — not 
so,  however,  of  the  ofhce  from  which  it  starts.  By 
some  of  the  dragsmen  about  Brighton  it  is  called 
(and  not  inappropriately)  '  The  Beehive  '  —  being 
the  place  that  gives  birth  to  the  swarm  of  cheaj:) 
concerns,  the  w^hole  of  which  book  at  it ;  and  an 
elegant  lot,  take  them  altogether,  they  certainly  are. 
As  I  do  not  profess  to  be  the  historian  of  '  pair- 
horse  coaches,'  I  shall  waste  but  few  words  ou  The 
Royal  Exchange  and  Hero,  observing  only  that  one 
of  them  (the  first,  I  believe)  was,  and,  for  aught  I 
know  to  the  contary,  still  is,  horsed  out  of  Brighton 
by  a  dealer  of  the  name  of  liayler  or  Hamer — no 
bad  judge,  it  would  appear,  of  the  value  of  the  old 
saying,  '  Short  accounts   make    long  friends  ; '    for, 


FOURTH  DAY,  187 

every  night  after  the  coach  comes  in,  he  chxiivs  the 
blunt,  or  no  'flesh'  is  fortlicoming  the  next  morn- 
ing. To  the  Adonis  of  The  Beehive,  Old  Tommy 
(on  Mr.  Stevenson's  late  coach,  The  Coronet),  in  his 
white  castor,  it  would  take  a  far  abler  pen  than  mine 
to  do  justice.  I  shall  make  my  how  to  him,  there- 
fore, with  the  remark,  that  I  believe  him  to  be  a 
very  excellent  judge  of  stock  (would  he  not  be  there- 
fore better  placed  on  The  Exchange?),  and  that  if 
his  passengers  are  at  any  time  displeased  with  him, 
they  must  be  guilty  of  the  most  gross  ingratitude  in 
the  world ;  for  he  shows  them,  beyond  a  doubt,  the 
most  extraordinary  countenance  of  any  man  on  the 
road.  Mr.  Genu's  old  servant,  Charles  Newman, 
drives,  and,  I  believe,  horses  part  of,  the  other  side 
of  this  concern ;  but  were  it  not  to  notice  his  coach 
— I  had  almost  written  van — I  should  pass  him  over 
suh  silentio,  as  it  gives  me  no  pleasure  to  find  fault, 
and  it  is  out  of  my  power  to  compliment  him  on  his 
performance  as  a  dragsman ;  which,  considering  the 
number  of  years  he  has  been  at  it,  is  but  a  slovenly 
piece  of  business,  and,  meet  him  whenever  you  will, 
his  horses  are  never  in  hand  as  they  should  be. 
Let  me,  however,  give  him  his  due.  I  have  ridden 
with  him  more  than  once  (not  on  his  present  coach), 
and  always  found  him  exceedingly  civil,  obliging, 
and  good-tempered ;  and  I  believe  his  career  has 
been  singularly  fortunate  so  far  as  regards  the  chap- 
ter of  accidents.  The  drag  he  is  just  now  at  work 
upon — his  own  fancy,  I  am  given  to  understand — is 
certainly  a  most  extraordinary  one,  considering  the 
'  march  of  intellect '  on  the  road,  as  elsewhere  ;  being 
built — though  on  some  fantastic,  new-fangled  con- 


i88  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

struction,  on  the  old  principle  of  six  in  and  twelve 
out — very  roomy,  high  and  lofty  from  the  ground, 
and  altogether  as  heavy  in  appearance  and  reality  as 
the  old  waggons  of  fifty  years  back.  If  I  mistake 
not,  they  advertise  it  to  run  in  'six  hours;'  but  in 
my  opinion  the  cattle  have  yet  to  be  foaled  that  will 
keep  this  time  with  it  three  journeys  together. 

"If  in  anything  that  I  have  remarked  I  seem 
to  under-rate  the  merits  of  The  Beehive  and  its 
economists,  I  beg  pardon  very  sincerely  for  so  doing ; 
but,  having  an  unhappy  prejudice  against  cheap 
articles  in  general,  of  all  cheap  things  in  this  world 
(except  cheap  wine),  I  hold  cheap  coaches  in  the 
greatest  and  most  particular  abomination  ;  and  when- 
ever I  see  the  w^ords,  '  Cheap  Travelling '  posted  up 
at  the  door  of  an  office,  I  always  feel  disposed  in- 
voluntarily to  add,  '  and  nasty,'  to  the  advertisement. 

"  I  recognised  the  other  day  a  well-known  face  on 
The  Royal  Clarence  through  Horsham  and  Kings- 
ton, and  found  on  inquiry  that  it  belonged  to  my 
old  acquaintance  Christopher,  of  Oxford,  one  of  the 
largest  country  proprietors  going,  and  the  sharpest 
thorn  that  old  Costar  ever  had  or  will  have  in  his 
side.  Will  Mr.  Goodman  forgive  me  if  I  tell  him 
that  I  looked  twice  before  I  Avould  believe  the 
evidence  of  my  eyes,  that  it  bore  the  name  of  the 
proprietor  of  The  Regent  and  Neiv  Times?  Holmes 
and  his  son  are  both  at  work  on  this  coach  ;  but  I 
certainly  cannot  compliment  them  on  the  appear- 
ance of  their  cattle — into  Brighton  at  least ;  and  if 
Mr.  Goodman  remembers  some  observations  he  once 
made  at  a  coach-dinner  at  Huntingdon  about  one  of 
the  '  Stamfords,'  on  which  he  and  I  were  travelling, 


FOURTH  DAY.  189 

he  will  find  them  apply  pretty  closely  to  this  name- 
child  of  the  late  Lord  IIi<;h  Admiral.  I  should 
observe  that  Holmes  himself  takes  2'he  Clarena' 
from  Horsham  to  Kingston  ;  and  having  lately  had 
an  opportunity  of  comparing  his  stock  with  that  of 
his  partner  into  Brighton,  I  was  not  a  little  struck 
with  the  difference  of  condition  ;  but  twelve  miles 
an  hour  over  Mr.  Goodman's  ground,  and  four  and 
a  half  over  his  oivn,  will  account  for  anything  ! 

"I  find  I  must  once  more  retrace  my  steps  to  the 
office,  No.  52  East  Street,  having  hitherto  omitted  all 
notice  of  poor  old  Hine's  partner,  a  very  deserving 
young  man  of  the  name  of  Bristow,  who,  from  being 
a  porter  in  the  establishment,  has  raised  himself 
within  the  last  few  years  to  the  situation  of  coach- 
man and  proprietor  of  The  Alert.  He  and  the 
evergreen  old  veteran  horse  it  between  them  up  to 
Reigate,  from  which  Mr.  Grace,  of  Sutton,  I  believe, 
takes  it  to  the  village  of  that  name,  and  thence  Mr. 
Home  into  the  'Old  Bell'  yard,  Holborn.  I  cannot 
speak  very  intimately  of  Bristow's  performance,  but 
I  believe  him  to  be  a  fair  coachman,  and  he  appears 
uncommonly  strong  and  powerful  on  his  box. 

"  Of  the  artists  of  '  The  Blue  Office '  it  is  not,  of 
course,  my  intention  to  speak,  having  travelled  with 
but  one  of  them,  who  is  now  at  work,  and  of  him 
I  have  already  recorded  mij  opinion.  I  may  say, 
however,  that  Mr.  Crossweller's  coaches  in  general 
are  capitally  horsed  ;  he  has,  indeed,  the  reputation 
of  doing  his  work  as  well  as  any  man  out  of 
Brighton  ;  and  I  think  it  must  be  a  fastidious  eye 
that  could  find  much  fault  with  the  specimens  of 
his   stock    that    I    have   seen   in   tlic   Iton.  Rochet, 


I90  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

&c.,  &c.  He  bears,  moreover,  amongst  his  servants 
a  most  excellent  character,  and,  I  have  good  reason 
to  believe,  is  a  very  worthy  man,  as  well  as  one  of 
the  best  horsemasters  in  Christendom. 

"I  cannot  conclude  this  article  (and  my  paper 
reminds  me  speedily  to  do  so)  without  once  more 
adverting  to  the  merits  of  a  coach  I  have  already 
named,  The  Neiv  Dart.  Believe  me,  gentle  reader, 
it  is  one  of  the  very  best  on  the  road ;  and  let  me 
counsel  you  by  no  means  to  omit  travelling  this 
autumn  with  both  George  Deere  and  Ned  Patten- 
den  ;  for  it  would,  I  assure  you,  be  a  service  of 
considerable  difficulty  to  find  two  better  dragsmen 
or  more  obliging  fellows  out  of  any  yard,  not  in 
Brighton  alone,  but  the  whole  of  London.  I  hope 
the  proprietors  intend  to  keep  both  sides  on  during 
the  winter,  as  it  will  be  a  thousand  pities  to  throw 
such  artists  out  of  regular  employment;  and  working 
alternate  weeks,  which,  if  one  side  is  dropped,  I 
suppose  they  will  be  obliged  to  do,  is  hardly  suf- 
ficient (in  winter)  to  make  the  pot  boil,  and  not 
at  all  commensurate  with  the  deserts  of  either  one 
or  the  other. 

"  Your  patience,  Mr.  Editor,  I  should  think,  must 
now  be  at  an  end.  I  beg  your  forgiveness  for  having 
trespassed  on  it  so  long,  and  conclude  by  giving  you 
a  list  of  coaches  out  of  Brighton  on  the  ist  October 
1828,  with  the  various  hours  at  which  they  start 
for  London,  and  the  names  of  the  dragsmen  now 
at  work.  As  a  matter  of  reference,  it  may  hereafter 
be  interesting,  and  I  think  you  will  find  it  perfectly 

correct. 

"  Viator,  Jun. 


FOURTH  DAY. 


191 


"  P.S. — I  must  take  an  early  opportunity  of 
travelling  with  both  Clary  and  Jordan  on  that  first- 
rate  coach  The  Comet ;  for,  from  everything  I  can 
learn  of  them,  they  are  precisely  the  sort  of  artists 
that  Bob  Snow,  for  the  sake  of  consistency,  should 
have  always  about  him. 


Dart  .... 
Item  .... 
New  Times .     . 

Royal  Exchange 

Royal  Clarence 
Alert  .     .     . 
Regulator     . 

Comet      .  . 

Patriot    .  . 

Magnet    .  . 

Regent     .  . 

True  Blue  . 

Union      .  . 

Age     .     .  . 
Coronet  . 

New  Dart    . 

Royal  George 
Rocket    . 

Times 
Sovereign     . 

Hero  .     .     , 

Evening  Star 
Royal  Mail  . 


Offices. 


18  Castle  Square  "\ 
Blue  Coach  Office/ 
Goodman's,  Castled 

Square  .  •  •  t 
Beehive,       Castle  j 

Square  .  .  ,) 
Goodman's  .  .  \ 
52  East  Street  .J 
Beehive,       Castle 

Square  .... 
1 8  Castle  Square. 
7  Castle  Square  . 
5  Castle  Square  . 
Goodman's,  Castle 

Square 
Blue  Office  .     .     . 
52  and  53  East  St. 
5  Castle  Square    . 
Beehive,       Castle 

Square 
135  North  St.  and 

18  Castle  Square 
Blue  Office .  .  . 
Blue  Office .     .     . 

Goodman's  Office  ^ 
1 8  Castle  Square  . 

Beehive,  Castle 
Square      .     . 

18  Castle  Square 
and  Goodman's . 

Blue  Office .     .     . 


Hours. 


6  A.M 

7  A.M. 

9  A.M. 
9.30  A.M. 


Cragsmen. 


12  o'clock 


3  P-M- 

10  P.M. 
10.30  P.M. 


/Bob  Snow,  up  and  down. 

\^Mellish,  up  and  down. 

rSam  Goodman,  x\\i  and  down. 


/Tho.  Holmes  and  Son. 
\Hine  and  Bristow. 
Young  Cook  and  Adams. 

'Clary  and  Jordan 
Harding  and  Smart. 
Womack  and  Young  Callow. 
Gray  and  Goodman's  brother. 

Mellish  and  Scriven. 
Pickett  and  Egerton. 
Mr.  Stevenson  and  She  ward. 
Old  Tommy  and  C.  Newman. 

'  George  Deere  and  Ned  Pat- 

tenden. 
Rugeroh  and  J.  Newman. 
Houldswortli   and   Young  C. 

Newman. 
Mosely  and  Ellis. 
Ned  Russell,   up  and   down  ; 

sometimes  W.  Snow. 


Penny  and  Bramble. 
Farley  and  Allen. 


N.B. — An  extra  coach,   from    18   Castle  Square,   at   eight   o'clock   every 
Saturday  morning,  driven  by  William  Snow. 


Your  readers  will  observe  a  blank  in  the  column 


192  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

of  dragsmen  appointed  to  the  Hero  and  Royal 
Exchange.  To  speak  the  truth,  I  have  never 
thought  it  worth  my  while  to  inquire  the  names 
of  these  '  pair-horse '  performers ;  but  I  believe  that 
one  carter  has  something  to  do  with  the  driving 
of  the  Hero  and  Hayler's  horse-keeper,  perhaps, 
drives  or  drove  the  other." 

The  coaching  age  is  an  age  so  utterly  passed  away 
and  forgotten  that  no  young  man  of  our  time  can 
have  any  conception  of  the  hardships  cheerfully,  or 
at  least  passively,  endured  by  our  grandfathers  when 
they  travelled.  It  is  but  rarely  one  finds  mention  of 
these  things  by  contemporary  writers,  because  they 
were  regarded  as  of  such  common  experience  as  not 
to  be  worthy  the  mentioning.  Most  writers,  too,  in 
our  time  have  been  gentlemen  coachmen,  amateurs 
of  the  whip,  who  could  have  little  or  no  experience 
of  what  old-time  travelling  really  meant  in  all  its 
discomforts  of  delay,  danger,  and  expense.  Of  its 
romance,  too,  they  cannot  know  much.  It  is,  then, 
with  gratitude  that  the  searcher  after  these  things 
lights  upon  such  passages  as  the  following  from 
Shergold's  "  Recollections  of  Brighton  in  the  Olden 
Time,"  written  now  many  years  ago,  and  pub- 
lished in  a  little  paper-covered  pamphlet  that  is  now 
extremely  scarce.  It  lies  before  me  as  I  write,  an 
account,  with  a  certain  literary  flavour,  of  Brighton 
during  Regency  times,  written  by  one  who  experi- 
enced or  observed  all  those  things  of  which  he  writes, 
liere  is  his  account  of  coaching  on  the  Brighton 
road  in  his  time  : — 


^ 


FOURTH  DAY. 


193 


"In  my  early  days  the  setting  out  from  llri<j;litoii 
and  the  arriving  in  London  was  a  very  formidable 
affair.  It  was  really  an  event  only  to  be  well  got 
through  by  men  of  a  robust  constitution  and  women 
who  had  been  inured  to  fatigue  by  early  rising  and 
scrubbing  and  rubbing. 

"  There  were  three  roads  from  Brighton  to  London. 
The  first  and  chief  passed  through  Cuckfield  and 
Reigate.  This  was  the  Appian  Way  for  the  high 
nobility  of  England.  The  other  two  were  vulgar. 
The  one  passed  through  Lewes,  the  other  through 
Horsham.  Genteel  people  never  spoke  of  those 
roads  but  with  a  turn  up  of  the  nose  and  (!)  a  slight 
ejection  of  saliva  from  the  lips.  On  both  these  roads 
there  ran,  from  my  earliest  recollection,  a  four-horse 
coach,  or  genteel  wagon,  which  had  a  rumble- 
tumble  or  basket  behind,  in  Avhicli  soldiers,  sailors, 
workmen,  and  other  rough  materials  travelled ;  and, 
as  the  rumble-tumble  had  no  springs,  the  exercise  in 
it  must  have  been  just  as  delightful  as  if  a  person 
were  to  employ  a  man  to  kick  him  all  the  way  from 
Brighton  to  London.  These  coaches  or  wagons 
generally  arrived  in  London  before  midnight ;  but 
sometimes,  it  is  said,  they  fell  short,  and  stopped  the 
night  on  the  road,  for  the  benefit  of  some  innkeeper, 
a  relation  of  the  coachman. 

"  The  best  method  of  conveyance  on  the  Cuckfield 
road  was  by  pair-horse  coaches.  These  started  at 
eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and,  if  nothing  inter- 
vened, proceeded  steadily  and  boldly  as  far  as  Preston, 
where  they  stopped  at  the  public-house — it  being 
a  prescriptive  right  of  all  coachmen  in  those  days 

N 


194  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

never  to  pass  a  public-house  without  calling.  Coach- 
men were  also  persons  of  much  consideration,  a 
great  deal  of  the  business  of  the  country  being 
transacted  by  them.  After  quitting  Preston,  the 
coach  '  snailed  it  on,'  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  invent 
a  term,  to  Withdean  and  Patcham,  stopping,  of 
course,  a  little  time  at  each.  The  next  stoppage 
was  at  the  bottom  of  Clayton  Hill — the  formidable 
Clayton  Hill — where  the  coachman  descended  from 
his  box  and  civilly  obliged  all  the  passengers,  out- 
side and  in,  to  walk  up,  on  the  plea  '  that  the  roads 
were  very  heavy ;  it  being  absolutely  killing  to  his 
horses.'  This  walk  to  the  top  of  Clayton  Hill  took 
about  half-an-hour,  and  was  very  fatiguing,  especially 
if  a  man  had  the  gallantry  to  offer  his  arm  to  a  fat 
widow.  From  the  top  of  Clayton  Hill  you  had  a 
most  delightful  view.  You  saw  the  Surrey  Hills, 
and  some  people  asserted  you  could  see  St.  Paul's ; 
but  I  believe  the  persons  who  saw  St.  Paul's  were 
Londoners  and  men  of  very  extensive  imagination. 
From  Clayton  Hill  the  coach  '  snailed  it  on '  towards 
Cuckfield,  the  coachman  not  deeming  it  proper  to 
ask  the  passengers  to  walk  above  three  or  four  times 
until  he  arrived  at  that  little  town.  At  St.  John's 
Common,  on  the  hither  side  of  Cuckfield,  was  a  neat 
little  public-house  where  the  coachman  usually  took 
a  snack,  which  consisted  of  a  mouthful  of  bread  and 
cheese  and  five  or  six  glasses  of  gin  and  bitters,  for 
that  was  the  liquor  jpai'  excellence  of  coachmen  in 
tliat  day.  When  the  coach  arrived  at  Cuckfield, 
it  was  usual  for  some  of  the  passengers  to  say  to 
one  another,  '  Well,  as  the  coach  will  stop  here  for 


FOURTH  DAY.  195 

some  time,  we  will  walk  on.'  This  walking  on 
often  consisted  of  a  hard  tug,  up  hill  and  down, 
over  five  or  six  miles  of  slimy,  slippery  road.  But 
then  you  had  your  recompense.  You  cultivated  the 
acquaintance  of  some  agreeable  fellow,  who  had 
begun  to  interest  you  by  his  manners.  You  heard 
every  man's  business ;  where  he  came  from  and 
where  he  was  going  ;  where  his  father  and  mother 
lived;  how  many  brothers  and  sisters  he  had,  and 
what  was  his  occupation.  One  told  you  he  was 
going  to  London  to  get  employment ;  another,  that 
he  was  going  to  France  ;  a  third,  that  he  was  going  to 
India ;  and  a  fourth  that  he  was  going  to  the  d — 1,' 
and  so  forth.  Now  compare  this  to  the  taciturn, 
sulky  method  of  travelling  by  railroad,  and  you  will 
immediately  see  the  difference.  There  was  an  ad- 
vantage and  an  interest  in  travelling  by  coach  which 
travelling  by  rail  can  never  communicate.  In  the 
former  you  saw  men  and  their  faces,  and  acquired 
some  information  ;  in  the  latter  you  learn  nothing  ex- 
cept the  number  of  persons  killed  or  injured  by  the 
last  accident.  A  young  man  who  entered  the  coach 
at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  at  Brighton  took  his 
seat  perhaps  opposite  a  young  lady  whom  he  thought 
pretty  and  interesting.  When  he  arrived  at  Cuck- 
field  he  began  to  be  in  love ;  at  Crawley  he  was 
desperately  smitten  ;  at  Reigate  his  passion  became 
irretrievable,  and  when  he  gave  her  an  arm  to  ascend 
the  steep  ridges  of  Reigate  Hill — a  just  cnibloin,  by 
the   way,  of  human   life — he   declared   his   passion, 

1  Why  palter  witli  tlu-  Devil,  my  good  Shergold  ;  li;is  he  not  a  right 
to  his  name  I 


196  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

was  accepted,  and  they  were  married  soon  after. 
Nothing  of  this  sort  ever  occurs  on  raih'oads.  Senti- 
ment never  blooms  on  the  iron  soil  of  these  sulky 
conveyances.  A  woman  was  a  creature  to  be  looked 
at,  admired,  courted,  and  beloved  in  a  stage-coach ; 
but  on  a  railway  a  woman  is  nothing  but  a  package, 
a  bundle  of  goods  committed  to  the  care  of  the  rail- 
way company's  servants,  who  take  care  of  the  poor 
thing  as  they  would  take  care  of  any  other  bale  of 
goods.  It  is  said  that  matches  are  made  in  heaven ; 
it  may  likewise  be  said  that  matches  more  often 
begin  in  the  old  stage-coaches,  and  that  railroads  are 
the  antipodes  of  love. 

"  Before  the  coach  overtook  the  passengers  who 
had  purposed  to  walk  forward,  they  arrived  at  Hand 
Cross,  a  complete  rustic  inn,  of  which  the  landlord 
bore  the  impress  of  Sussex  rusticity.  With  that 
kind  and  benevolent  attention  to  the  happiness  and 
comfort  of  walking  travellers  which  innkeepers  by 
the  roadside  usually  possess,  a  number  of  stools  and 
benches  were  always  placed  in  front  of  the  inn  to 
receive  the  wearied  muscles  of  the  promenaders. 
What  ought  to  be  done  ?  Something  must  be 
ordered  to  recruit  the  strength  of  the  exhausted 
passengers  and  to  repay  the  landlord  for  his  kind 
attention.  Hand  Cross  was  out  of  the  world.  It 
was  quite  as  far  from  London — at  least,  apparently 
so — as  the  deserts  of  Arabia.  There  were  no  dandies 
near.  Brummel  had  left  England  and  repaired  to 
Caen,  in  Normandy.  Nature  had  returned  to  what 
she  originally  was,  and  Englishmen  had  become 
what  Englishmen   always    are   when    left    to  them- 


FOURTH  DAY.  197 

selves — simple  and  unostentatious.  Bannister,  the 
publican  of  Hand  Cross,  walked  forth  from  liis  iim, 
carrying  a  gallon  bottle  of  gin  in  one  hand  and  a 
small  wicker  basket  of  slices  of  gingerbread  in  the 
other.  '  You  must  be  tired,  gentlemen,'  said  he  ; 
'  come,  take  a  glass  and  a  slice.'  Hand  Cross  was 
not  Bond  Street,  nor  was  it  St.  James's  Street,  nor 
White's,  nor  Boodle's,  nor  any  other  great  place,  but 
simply  Hand  Cross  ;  and  gin  and  gingerbread  became 
it  as  well  in  those  days  as  whitebait  now  becomes 
Blackwall.  So  we  all  partook  of  gin  and  ginger- 
bread ;  and  I  can  safely  aver  that  I  never  heard  a  gen- 
tleman's character  disputed  or  his  reputation  black- 
ened because  he  took  a  glass  of  gin  and  ate  a  slice 
of  gingerbread  at  the  rustic  hostelrie  of  Hand  Cross. 
But  the  coach  was  soon  seen  tending  towards 
Hand  Cross,  and  the  outside  and  inside  passengers, 
leaping  up,  took  each  person  his  place,  and  off  we 
went  at  the  quiet  and  everlasting  rate  of  four  miles 
and  a  half  an  hour.  As  we  had  a  down-hill  passage 
from  Hand  Cross,  and  not  above  four  or  five  houses 
to  stop  at,  we  soon  arrived  at  Crawley,  a  miserable 
place,  the  sight  of  which  always  gave  me,  and  many 
other  persons  whom  I  could  mention,  were  it  neces- 
sary, the  stomach-ache.  At  Crawley  we  delayed  not 
more  than  was  sufficient  just  to  kick  the  dust  from 
our  feet,  which  Horace,  or  some  other  poet,  mentions 
as  a  demonstration  of  contempt.  We  then  bundled 
on  to  Reigate,  and  arrived  at  the  '  King's  Arms,'  the 
horses  absolutely  trotting  up  to  the  door  as  if  they 
took  a  real  pleasure  in  presenting  their  passengers 
in  grand  style. 


,98  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

"  At  the  door  of  this  comfortable  inn  there  was 
always  standing  (I  mean  in  the  days  of  coaching) 
a  waiter,  who,  after  handing  out  the  passengers, 
informed  them  that  dinner  was  ready  and  would 
be  on  the  table  in  live  minutes.  Every  man  felt 
hungry ;  for,  out  of  the  thirty-two  miles  which  lie 
between  Brighton  and  Reigate,  they  had  walked 
twenty.  AVhen  they  entered  the  room  where  dinner 
was  to  be  served,  they  found  some  other  passengers, 
who  had  come  by  a  downward  coach,  waiting  to  dine. 
Here,  then,  we  were,  about  fifteen  ladies  and  gentle- 
men of  the  coach-going  community — and  who  were 
not  coach-goers  in  those  simple  and  happy  days  ? — 
about  to  sit  do\vn  to  a  plain  dinner,  with  two  bottles 
of  wine,  at  two  o'clock  in  the  day,  at  one  of  the  best 
inns  of  the  sort  in  the  kingdom.  The  waiter  put 
everything  expeditiously  on  the  table,  wine  and  all — 
even  et  ccelera  and  et  consequentia  (1  don't  know  the 
Latin  words  for  pies  and  tarts — I  think  the  Romans, 
poor  fellows  !  never  knew  what  they  were — or  else  I 
would  quote  the  words),  and  said,  very  obligingly, 
'Ladies  and  gentlemen,  you  have  just  two  minutes 
for  dinner !  The  coachman  is  putting-to  his  horses, 
and  he  will  be  round  at  the  door  immediately.' 
'My  friends,'  said  an  Irishman,  'don't  be  after 
troubling  yourselves  about  the  botheration  of  the 
serving-man.  It's  all  a  got-up  business  between 
the  innkeeper  and  the  coachman  ;  they  wish  to  keep 
the  good  things  for  themselves.  But  they  shan't 
have  their  own  way ;  I'd  sooner  put  the  leg  of 
mutton  and  the  custards  in  my  pocket.  But  let's 
call   in   the   landlord   and   the   coachman,   and   give 


FOURTH  DAY.  199 

them   such   a  drubbing  that   they'll   not   ([uit   their 
beds  for  a  fortnight.'     This  might  have  been  done, 
forbad  advice  is  amazingly  attractive — it  is  as  catch- 
ing as  bird-lime — had  not  a  Mr.  Prudent,  who  often 
travelled  the  roads  in  those  days,  proposed  to  call 
in  the  coachman,  that  he  might  be  argued  with  in 
two  ways  :  firstly,  to  his  stomach,  by  a  tumbler  of 
sherry  ;  and,  secondly,  to  his  brains,  by  plain  and 
solid  argument.     The  coachman  was  summoned,  and 
Mr.  Prudent  proved  to  his  stomach,  by  a  tumbler  of 
sherry,  and  to  his  head,  by  a  few  words   of  good 
sense,  that  '  they   who   sit   down   to   a  dinner,   and 
mean  to  pay  for  it,  should  be  allowed  time  to  eat 
it.'     The  coachman  was  convinced  ;  he  gave  us  time 
to  eat  our  dinner ;  we  paid  for  it,  wine  and  all,  con- 
jointly— the  ladies  being  considered  as  visitors  ;  and 
then  went  on  as  fast  as  two  horses  (one  of  which 
was  lame  and  the  other  broken-winded)  could  carry 
us.     The  coachman,  after  we  had   quitted  Reigate, 
entered  into  an  able  soliloquy,  addressed  to  me,  to 
prove  that  eating  dinners  at  two  o'clock  and  drink- 
ing heavy  port  wine  was  imprudent.      I  was  sitting 
on  the  box,  and  perfectly  agreed  with  him.     He  did 
not  say  anything  about  drinking  sherry,  so  I  did  not 
allude  to  it ;  but  when  he  told  me  that  he  was  quite 
sure  he  should  lose  his  place  for  staying  so  long  at 
Reigate,  we  on  the  outside  all  gave  him  a  shilling 
apiece ;  so  that,  by  delaying  ten  minutes,  he  gained 
about  seven  shillings  and  a  tumbler  of  sherry.     The 
coachmen  of  those  days  were  such  honest  men — not 
at  all  cunning  !    But  those  were  the  days  of  the  olden 
time,  before  the  slippery  railroads  came  into  fashion  ! 


200  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

*'  When  the  coach  arrived  at  Reigate  Hill  " — our 
writer,  you  see,  takes  the  old  route — "all  passengers 
were  requested  to  descend.  This  hill  was  the  most 
formidable  tug  on  the  road.  Like  the  Alps  or  the 
Pyrenees,  it  presented  obstacles  which  could  only  be 
surmounted  by  sound  lungs  and  strong  limbs.  The 
best  and  easiest  way  of  arriving  at  the  summit  of  the 
hill  was  to  follow  humbly  the  movements  of  the 
coach ;  but  some  ladies  and  gentlemen  ventured 
up  a  steep  which  led  almost  perpendicularly  up  the 
hill,  and  joined  the  road  by  a  transverse  path.  Here 
was  the  trial  of  sound  lungs  and  easy  and  comfort- 
able lacing.  Ladies  who  looked  more  to  dapper 
shapes  than  easy  respiration  were  sure  to  be  brought 
to  a  non-plus  about  the  middle  of  the  path,  and  it 
was  necessary  sometimes  to  despatch  a  deputation 
of  the  gentlemen  who  were  walking  up  the  hill 
near  the  coach  to  aid  in  dragging  the  impeded 
ladies  up  the  path.  The  fair  passengers,  however 
squeamish,  w^ere  obliged  to  submit  to  the  pulling 
and  pushing  movement :  for  there  was  only  this 
method  of  surmounting  these  difficulties,  unless  they 
preferred  to  be  rolled  down  the  steep  like  a  bundle 
of  goods,  and  thus  rejoin  their  fellow-passengers 
below.  There  was  always  a  little  merry  nonsense 
of  this  sort  which  was  attached  to  coach-travelling, 
and  now,  alas  !  forms  part  of  the  category  of  laugh- 
able incidents  of  the  olden  times. 

"  When  we  arrived  at  the  top  of  Reigate  Hill,  we 
— the  travellers  of  the  ancient  epoch — considered 
the  journey  to  London  almost  as  completed ;  for 
we  were   so   accustomed  to  slow  travelling,  that  an 


H     "^ 


FOURTH  DAY.  201 

hour    in    a    coach    was    as    patiently  home    as   five 
minutes  now  are  on  the  raih'oad. 

"  At  the  '  Cock,'  at  Sutton/  we  delayed  a  little 
half  hour,  as  the  French  say,  and  then  valiantly 
proceeded  on  to  the  noted  '  Elephant  and  Castle,' 
where  we  waited  for  the  completion  of  many  busi- 
nesses, such  as  change  of  coach,  if  you  were  going 
into  the  City,  and  other  necessary  duties.  The 
destination  of  the  Brighton  coaches  in  those  days 
was  the  '  Golden  Cross,'  Charing  Cross— a  nasty 
inn,  remarkable  for  filth  and  apparent  misery — 
whence  it  was  usual  to  be  conveyed  to  the  place  to 
which  you  were  going  in  one  of  those  large  lumber- 
ing hackney-coaches,  with  two  jaded,  broken-winded, 
and  broken-kneed  hacks,  which  were  common  in 
those  days,  before  the  introduction  of  safety  cabs 
and  light  flies.  These  vehicles  were  always  damp 
and  dreary,  the  very  epitomes  of  misery.  On  arriv- 
ing at  the  house  you  were  going  to  in  London,  of 
some  friends  or  relations,  the  following  conversation 
often  occurred  : — '  Happy  to  see  you ;  but  what 
brings  you  so  soon  ?— didn't  expect  you  before  nine, 
and  it's  now  only  seven.'  'We  have  been  eleven 
hours  on  the  road — is  not  that  enough  ? '  '  Oh  ! 
quite  enough ;  but  formerly  the  Brighton  coaches 
arrived  at  midnight.  Travelling  improves  every  day. 
I  Avonder  what  we  shall  arrive  at  next !  Only  eleven 
hours  from  Brighton  to  London  !  Wonderful !  Al- 
most incredible  ! ' 

1  "Gentleman"  Jackson,  the  pugilist,  kept  the  "Cock  Inn"  at 
Sutton  after  he  had  retired  from  the  "Ring"  with  a  fortune.  He 
enjoyed  the  patronage  of  George  IV.,  died  here,  and  is  buried  at 
Brompton. 


202  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

"  It  may  be  remarked,  in  reference  to  roads  and  the 
travelling  on  them  in  bygone  days,  that  our  ancestors 
had  a  predilection  for  the  tops  of  hills.  Whether 
they  loved  the  passage  over  hills  because  they  pre- 
sented them  with  extensive  views,  or  because  the  air 
on  the  tops  of  hills  inflated  delightfully  their  lungs 
and  cheered  their  minds,  I  know  not,  but  so  it  was  ; 
and  I  have  no  doubt  if  Skiddaw  had  been  placed 
where  Clayton  Hill  is,  and  Snowdon  where  Eeigate 
Hill  is,  they  would  have  gone  right  over  the  tops 
of  those  two  hills.  But  a  road  from  one  place  to 
another,  as  from  London  to  Brighton,  became,  after 
a  time,  no  longer  a  way  of  agreeable  passage,  which 
you  lingered  along  for  recreation  and  pleasure,  and 
from  which  you  contemplated  charming  objects,  but 
a  road  over  which  you  desired  to  be  conveyed  with 
impatient  speed  lest  you  should  have  time  for  sober 
reflection.  When  our  ancestors  of  the  Sussex  breed 
bethought  them  how  they  might  hasten  from  one 
place  to  another  with  the  greatest  rapidity,  they 
discovered,  great  geniuses  as  they  were,  that  every 
hill  has  a  valley  near  it,  or  a  flat  level  at  no  great 
distance,  and  that  by  following  this  valley  or  level 
you  went  a  few  miles  about,  but  avoided  all  the 
inconveniences  of  the  hills,  and  accomplished  the 
journey  in  half  the  time.  Two  new  roads  were, 
therefore,  made  ;  the  one  avoided  Clayton  Hill ;  the 
other,  by  leaving  Reigate  Hill  to  the  left,  passed 
through  a  village  called,  I  think,  Merstham,  and 
enabled  you  to  arrive  in  London  without  material 
inequality  of  surface. 

"  After  the  above   alterations  were  made  on  the 


FOURTH  DAY.  203 

Brighton  Road,  came  on  the  time  of  expeditious 
travelling  by  four-horse  coaches.  U'hen  lived  and 
laboured  in  their  vocation  Bob  Pointer,  Black  Sam, 
the  Newnhams,  and  other  celebrated  coachmen  who 
handled  the  'ribbons'  most  skilfully,  and  drove 
four  blood-horses,  tackled  to  elegant  coaches,  with 
the  same  facility  as  they  could  have  driven  a  donkey 
in  a  go-cart.  Then  was  the  time  of  the  gentlemen 
coachmen,  when  some  members  of  the  Four-in-Hand 
Club  thought  they  could  exercise  profitably  the  three 
avocations  of  gentlemen,  coach  proprietors,  and  coach- 
men. One  saw  in  those  days  fair  and  agreeable 
countenances  peering  out  of  the  coach-windows,  and 
heard  sweet  and  silvery  voices  saying  in  tuned 
accents,  'Mr.  Coachman,  please  to  put  me  down  at 
Preston  Gate,'  &c.  I  remember  a  Captain  Gwynne, 
about  the  time  I  am  now  dwelling  on,  who  horsed  a 
Brighton  coach,  and  was  always  attended  by  two 
servants  in  livery :  the  one  executed  his  master's 
orders  about  the  steeds ;  the  other  took  care  of  the 
passengers  and  luggage,  and  received  the  money 
which  was  due.  I  think,  also,  1  recollect  a  Marquess 
of  Worcester  and  other  noblemen  horsing  coaches 
to  Brighton.  It  became  a  kind  of  fashionable  mania 
to  imitate  coachmen  in  all  things — to  talk  like  coach- 
men, look  like  coachmen,  and  act  like  coachmen. 
A  man,  whose  name  I  think  was  Whitchurch,  started 
a  coach  to  go  from  Brighton  to  London  and  return 
the  same  day.  This  was  a  great  event,  and  people 
assembled  in  numbers  to  see  it  arrive.  After  that  a 
coach  called  the  'Eclipse 'was  immensely  reputed. 
The  horses  galloped  all  the  way  from  Brighton  to 


204  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

London !  It  was  overturned  two  or  three  times  a 
week,  and  some  persons  were  killed.  After  the 
'  Eclipse '  came  the  railroads  ;  and  after  the  rail- 
roads, nobody  can  tell  what  will  follow — perhaps  we 
may  travel  by  '  electric  telegraph.'  " 

Between  1841,  when  the  railway  was  opened 
all  the  way  from  London,  and  1866,  during  a 
period  of  twenty-five  years,  coaching,  if  not  dead, 
at  least  showed  but  few  and  intermittent  signs 
of  life.  "  The  Age,"  which  then  was  owned  by 
Mr.  F.  W.  Capps,  was  the  last  coach  to  run  regu- 
larly on  the  direct  road  to  and  from  London.  The 
"Victoria,"  however,  was  on  the  road  until  Novem- 
ber 8,  1845. 

"The  Age"  had  been  one  of  the  best  equipped 
and  driven  of  all  the  smart  drags  in  that  period 
when  aristocratic  amateur  dragsmen  frequented 
this  road  ;  when  the  Marquis  of  Worcester  drove 
the  "  Beaufort,"  and  when  the  Hon.  Fred  Jerning- 
ham,  a  son  of  the  Earl  of  Stafford,  a  whip  of 
consummate  skill,  drove  the  day-mail ;  a  time 
when  "  The  Age "  itself  was  driven  by  that  sports- 
man of  gambling  memory.  Sir  St.  Vincent  Cotton, 
and  by  that  Mr.  Stevenson  who  was  its  founder, 
mentioned  more  particularly  on  page  182.  When 
Mr.  Capps  became  proprietor,  he  had  as  coachmen 
several  distinguished  men.  For  twelve  years,  for 
instance,  Robert  Brackenbury  drove  "The  Age" 
for  the  nominal  pay  of  twelve  shillings  per  week, 
enough  to  keep  him  in  whips. 

In  later  years,  about  1852,  a  revived  "Age,"  owned 
and  driven  by  the   present  Duke  of  Beaufort  and 


.:^. 


FOURTH  DAY.  205 

George  Clark,  the  "  Old"  Clark  of  coaching  acquaint- 
ance, was  on  the  road  to  London,  \iid  Dorking  and 
Kingston,  in  the  summer  months.  It  was  dis- 
continued in  1862.  A  picture  of  this  coach  crossing 
Ham  Common  eii  route  for  Brighton  was  painted 
in  1852  and  engraved.  A  reproduction  of  it  is 
shown  here. 

From  1862  to  1866,  the  rattle  of  the  bars  and 
the  sound  of  the  guard's  yard  of  tin  were  silent 
on  the  Brighton  Road ;  but  in  the  latter  year  of 
horsey  memory  and  the  coaching  revival,  a  number 
of  aristocratic  and  wealthy  amateurs  of  the  whip, 
among  whom  were  representatives  of  the  best 
coaching  talent  of  the  day,  subscribed  a  capital, 
in  shares  of  ^10;  and  a  little  yellow  coach,  the 
"  Old  Times,"  was  put  on  the  highway.  Among 
the  promoters  of  the  venture  were  Captain  Haworth, 
the  Duke  of  Beaufort,  Lord  11.  Thynne,  Mr. 
Chandos  Pole,  Mr.  "Cherry"  Angell,  Colonel 
Armytage,  Captain  Lawrie,  and  Mr.  Fitzgerald. 
The  experiment  proved  unsuccessful ;  but  in  the 
following  season,  commencing  in  April  1867,  when 
the  goodwill  and  a  large  portion  of  the  stock 
had  been  purchased  by  the  original  subscribers, 
by  the  Duke  of  Beaufort,  Mr.  E.  S.  Chandos  Pole, 
and  Mr.  Angell,  the  coach  was  doubled,  and  two 
new  coaches  built  by  Holland  &  Holland. 

The  Duke  of  Beaufort  was  chief  among  the 
sportsmen  who  horsed  the  coaches  during  this 
season,  and  Alfred  Tedder  was  professional  whip, 
in  conjunction  with  Pratt.  Mr.  Chandos  Pole, 
at  the    termination    of  the   summer    season,   deter- 


2o6  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

mined  to  carry  on  by  himself,  throughout  the 
winter,  a  service  of  one  coach.  This  he  did,  and, 
aided  by  Mr.  Pole-Gell,  doubled  it  in  the  follow- 
ing summer. 

Mr.  Chandos  Pole,  "  the  Squire,"  as  he  was 
known,  was  dined  at  Hatchett's  at  the  season's 
close  by  enthusiastic  lovers  of  the  road,  and  was 
presented  with  an  elaborate  silver  flagon  of  con- 
siderable value,  by  way  of  recognition  of  his 
qualities  as  whip  and  sportsman.  Tedder,  the 
coachman,  who  was  also  at  that  time  landlord  of 
the  "  Chequers "  at  Ilorley,  was  presented  with  a 
similar,  though  smaller  flagon. 

The  following  year,  1869,  the  coach  had  so 
prosperous  a  season,  that  it  showed  never  a  clean 
bill  all  the  summer,  either  way.  The  partners 
this  year  were  the  Earl  of  Londesborough,  Mr. 
Pole-Gell,  Colonel  Stracey  Clitherow,  Mr.  Chandos 
Pole,  and  Mr.  G.  Meek,  who  each  provided  horses 
for  one  stage,  with  the  exception  of  Mr.  Chandos 
Pole,  who  horsed  two  stages. 

From  this  season  coaching  became  extremely 
popular  on  the  Brighton  lload,  Mr.  Chandos  Pole 
running  his  coach  until  1872,  when,  in  December, 
Tedder  died.  In  the  following  year,  an  American 
amateur,  Mr.  Tiffany,  kept  up  the  tradition  with 
two  coaches.  Late  in  the  season  of  1874,  Captain 
Haworth  put  in  an  appearance. 

In  1875  "The  Age"  was  put  upon  the  road 
by  Mr.  Stewart  Freeman,  and  ran  in  the  season 
up  to  and  inchiding  1880,  in  which  year  it  was 
doubled.      John   Thorogood  was   professional  whip 


FOURTH  DAY.  207 

in  this  series  of  years,  joined  in  1880  by  Harry 
Ward.  Captain  Blyth  had  the  "  Defiance  "  on  the 
road  to  lirighton  this  year,  by  the  circuitous  route 
of  Tunbridge  Wells.  In  1881  Mr.  Freeman's  coach 
was  absent  from  the  road ;  but  Edwin  Fownes 
put  "  The  Age "  on  late  in  the  season.  In  the 
following  year  Mr.  Freeman's  coach  ran,  doubled 
again,  and  single  in  1883.  It  was  again  absent 
in  1884,  1885,  and  1886,  in  which  last  year  it 
ran  to  Windsor;  but  it  reappeared  on  this  road 
in  1887  as  "The  Comet."  In  the  winter  of  this 
year  the  service  was  continued  by  Captain  Beckett, 
who  had  Selby  and  Fownes  as  whips.  In  1888 
Mr.  Freeman  ran  in  partnership  with  Colonel 
Stracey  Clitherow,  Lord  Wiltshire,  and  Mr.  Hugh 
M'Calmont,  and  in  1889  became  partner  in  an 
undertaking  to  run  the  coach  doubled.  The  two 
"  Comets,"  therefore,  served  the  road  in  this  season, 
supported  by  two  additional  subscribers,  the  Honour- 
able H.  Sandys  and  Mr.  Randolph  Wemyss. 

In  18S8  the  "Old  Times,"  forsaking  the  Oatlands 
Park  drive,  had  appeared  on  the  Brighton  Road 
as  a  rival  of  "The  Comet,"  and  continued  through- 
out the  winter  months,  until  Selby  met  his  death  in 
that  December. 

"  The  Comet,"  as  a  single  coach,  ran  in  the  winter 
season  from  October  1889  to  April  1890,  when  it 
was  again  doubled  for  the  summer,  running  single 
in  1 89 1  and  the  present  year. 

By  the  courtesy  of  Mr.  Freeman  I  am  enabled  to 
give  the  following  particulars  of  the  Brighton  coaches 
in  which  he  has  been  a  leading  partner: — 


208 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


1875- 
Proprietor,      .     Stewart  Freeman. 
No.  of  horses,      2>Z-     Coachman,  Pope,  succeeded  by  John  Thoro- 

good. 
Ran,      ...      15  weeks  and  3  days. 
Route,  .     .     .     Sutton,  Woodhatch,  Crawley,  Hand  Cross,  Warm- 

inglid,   Bohiey,   Dale,  and   Patcham.     Paying 

toils. 

1876. 

Proprietor,      .     Stewart  Freeman. 
^"0.  of  horses,      43.     Coachman,  John  Thorogood. 
Ran,      ...      19  weeks  and  5  days,  carrying  1003  passengers. 
Route,  .     .     .     Vauxhall,  Sutton,  Reigate,  Crawley,  "Warminglid, 
Dale,  and  Patcham.     Paying  tolls. 

1877. 

Proprietor,      .     Stewart  Freeman, 

!N^o.  of  horses,      39.     Coachman,  John  Thorogood. 

Ran,      .     .     .     June   2   to  October  5,  carrying  835  passengers. 

Five  changes. 
Route,  .     .     .     Croydon,    Merstham,    Horley,   Hand   Cross,   Al- 

bourne.     Paying  tolls. 


Proprietors,  . 
No.  of  horses. 
Ran, 

Route,  .     . 


Proprietors,     . 

Xo.  of  horses, 
Ran, 

Route,  . 


1878. 

Stewart  Freeman  and  Colonel  Stracey-Clitherow. 

40.     Coachman,  John  Thorogood. 

19  weeks  and  2  days,  carrying  863  passengers. 

Five  changes.     Paying  tolls. 
As  before. 

1879. 

Stewart     Freeman,     Colonel    Stracey-Clitherow, 

Chandos  Pole. 
5 1 .     Coachman,  John  Thorogood. 
19  weeks  and  2  days,  carrying  882  passengers. 
As  before.     Paying  tolls. 


FOURTH  DAY. 


209 


1880. 

Proprietors,     .     Stewart  Freeman,  Colonel  Stracey-Clithcrow,  Lord 
Algernon  Lennox,  Mr.  Craven  (doubled  coach). 
No.  of  horses,       100.     Coachmen,  John  Thorogood,  Harry  Ward. 
Ran,      .     .     .     J\me  26  to  November  9. 
Route,  ...     As  l)ofore. 

1881. 

Coacli  discontinued. 

1882. 

Proprietors,     .     Stewart  Freeman  and  Baron  Oppenheim  (doubled 

coach). 
No.  of  horses,       100.    Coachmen,  John  Thorogood,  Edwhi  Fownes, 

senior. 
Ran,      .     .     .     June  17  to  October  16. 
Route,  ...     As  before. 

1883. 

Proprietors,     .  Stewart  Freeman  and  Colonel  Stracey-Clitherow. 

No.  of  horses,  50.     Coachman,  John  Thorogood. 

Ran,       .     .     .  August  11  to  October  29. 

Route,  ...  As  before. 

1884,  1885. 
Coach  discontinued. 

1886. 

Ran  to  "Windsor. 


1887. 

Proprietors,     .     Stewart  Freeman,   Capt.   A.   F.   MacAdam,  and 

Capt.  H.  L.  Beckett. 
No.  of  horses,       50.     Coachman,  John  Thorogood. 
Ran,       .     .     .     June  1 1  to  October  6. 
Route,  ...     As  before. 

0 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


1888. 

Proprietors,     .     Stewart  Freeman,  Colonel  Stracey-Clitherow,  Lord 

Wiltshire,  and  Mr.  Hugh  M'Calmont. 
No.  of  horses,      50.     Coachman,  John  Thorogood. 
Ean,       .     .     .     May  15  to  October  22. 
Route,   ...     As  before. 

1889. 

Proprietors,     .     Stewart  Freeman,  Colonel  Stracey-Clitherow,  Mr. 

Hugh  INI'Calmont,  Hon.  H.  Sandys,  and  Mr. 

Randolph  Wemyss  (doubled  coach). 
^STo.  of  horses,       100.      Coachman,  John  Thorogood,  Pennington. 
Ran,      .     .     .     May  1 1  to  Octol)er  5. 
Route,  ...     As  befiirc. 

1889-90. 

Wi7iter  Coach. 

I'roprietors,     .     Stewart  Freeman,  Colonel  Stracey-Clitherow,  Mr. 

Hugh  M'Calmont,  and  Mr  W.  H.  Mackenzie. 
No.  of  horses,       50.      Coachman,  Pennmgton. 
Ran,      .     .     .     October  1889  to  April  1890. 
Route,  ...     As  before. 

1890. 

i'rcjijrieturs,     .     Stewart  Freeman,  Colonel  Stracey-Clitherow,  Mr. 

Hugh     M'Calmont,    and    Sir    John    Poynder, 

Bart,  (doubled  coach). 
No.  of  horses,       100.     Coachmen,"W.H.Wragg,  Arthur  "Woodland. 
Ran,      .     .     .     May  10  to  October  4. 
Route,  ...     As  before. 

1891. 

Projjrietors,    .     St(;wart  Freeman,  Colonel  Stracey-Clitherow,  and 

Sir  John  Poynder,  Bart. 
No.  of  horses,     45.     Coachman,  W.  H.  Wragg. 
Ran,      .     .     .     May  2  to  October  ro,  carrying  1446  passengers. 
Route, .     .     .     As  before. 

1892. 
pKjprictors,    .     Sl(jwart  Freeman  and  Colonel  Stracey-Clitherow. 


6  .1 

CO  p, 

H  < 

3  I 


FOURTH  DAY.  211 

Many  of  those  who  took  part  in  the  coaching 
revival  on  this  road — the  road  on  which  the 
revival  began — are  now  gone  over  to  the  great 
majority. 

Selby's  death  and  Tedder's  have  already  been 
mentioned.  On  12th  May  1873,  Mr.  B.  J.  Angell 
died,  followed  by  Mr.  Meek  in  December  1874; 
Mr.  AVillis,  November  1876;  Mr.  W.  H.  Cooper, 
25th  March  1878;  and  Mr.  E.  S.  Chandos-Pole. 

But  revive  coaching  as  you  may,  'tis  but  an 
amusement  in  this  era  of  steam,  or,  let  us  say,  this 
transitional  era  from  steam  to  electricity.  Nothing 
can  give  us  the  experiences  of  our  grandfathers, 
which  is  perhaps  as  well  for  we  of  a  degenerate 
generation. 

In  those  times  you  took  your  seat  on  your  par- 
ticular fancy  in  coaches,  and  paid  your  sixteen 
shilling  fare  from  London  to  Brighton,  trusting  (yet 
with  heavy  heart)  in  Providence  to  bring  you  to  a 
happy  issue  from  all  the  dangers  and  discomforts 
of  travelling,  and  they  were  many.  Contemporary 
newspapers  give,  for  instance,  particulars  of  what 
befell  upon  the  road  in  the  great  snowstorm  of  24th 
December  1S36,  a  storm  which  paralysed  communi- 
cations throughout  the  kingdom. 

"The  Brighton  up-mail  of  Sunday  had  travelled 
about  eight  miles  from  that  town,  when  it  fell  into 
a  drift  of  snow,  from  which  it  was  impossible  to 
extricate  it  without  assistance.  The  guard  immedi- 
ately set  off  to  obtain  all  necessary  aid,  but  wlien 
he  returned  no  trace  whatever  could  be  found  eitlier 
of  the    coach,    coachman,    or   passengers,  three    in 


212  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

number.  After  much  difficulty  the  coach  was  found, 
but  could  not  be  extricated  from  the  hollow  into 
which  it  had  got.  The  guard  did  not  reach  town 
until  seven  o'clock  on  Tuesday  night,  having  been 
obliged  to  travel  with  the  bags  on  horseback,  and  in 
many  instances  to  leave  the  main  road  and  proceed 
across  fields  in  order  to  avoid  the  deep  drifts  of  snow. 

"The  passengers,  coachman,  and  guard  slept  at 
Clayton,  seven  miles  from  Brighton.  The  road  from 
Hand  Cross  was  quite  impassable.  The  non-arrival 
of  the  mail  at  Crawley  induced  the  postmaster  there 
to  send  a  man  in  a  gig  to  ascertain  the  cause  on 
Monday  afternoon.  No  tidings  being  heard  of  man, 
gig,  or  horse  for  several  hours,  another  man  was 
despatched  on  horseback,  and  after  a  long  search 
he  found  horse  and  gig  completely  built  up  in  the 
snow.  The  man  was  in  an  exhausted  state.  After 
considerable  difficulty  the  horse  and  gig  were  extri- 
cated, and  the  party  returned  to  Crawley.  The  man 
had  learned  no  tidings  of  the  mail,  and  refused  to 
go  out  again  on  any  such  exploring  mission." 

The  Brighton  mail  from  London,  too,  reached 
Crawley,  but  was  compelled  to  return. 

Sentiment  hung  round  the  expiring  age  of  coach- 
ing, and  has  cast  a  halo  upon  old-time  ways  of 
travelling,  so  that  we  often  fail  to  note  the  dis- 
advantages and  discomforts  endured  in  those  days ; 
but  amid  regrets  which  were  often  simply  maudlin 
occur  now  and  again  witticisms  true  and  tersely 
epigrammatic,  as  thus — 

"  For  the  neat  wayside  inn  and  a  dish  of  cold  meat 
You've  a  gorgeous  saloon,  but  there's  nothing  to  eat ;  " 


FOURTH  DAY. 


213 


'(f(i"*4r.Ki»f -51'. 


THE  FASHION,    1S28. 


214  T^HE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

and  a  contributor  to  the  Sporting  Magazine  observes, 
very  happily,  that  "  even  in  a  '  case '  in  a  coach,  it's 
'  there  you  are  ; '  whereas  in  a  railway  carriage  it's 
'  where  are  you  ? '  " 

But  sentiment  is  a  fearsome  thing,  and  few  things 
are  more  certain  than  that  if  the  sulphurous  fumes 
of  our  ^Metropolitan  Railway  were  replaced  to-morrow 
by  less  objectionable  vapours,  there  would  be  found 
those  who  would  regret  the  change,  for  the  sake  of 
old  association's  charm. 

Why,  coaching  itself  in  its  very  beginnings  was 
as  roughly  assailed  as  were  railways  on  their  first 
introduction.  Towards  the  close  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  when  hired  stages  began  to  supersede  in 
many  country  towns  and  districts  the  use  of  horses 
for  riding,  an  indignant  writer^  unburdened  his 
soul  in  this  wise  : — 

"  Will  any  man  keep  a  horse  for  himself  and 
another  for  his  servant,  all  the  year  round,  for  to 
ride  one  or  two  journeys,  that  at  pleasure  when  he 
hath  occasion  can  slip  to  any  place  where  his  busi- 
ness lies  for  two  or  three  shillings,  if  wdthin  twenty 
miles  of  London,  and  so  proportionately  to  any  part 
of  England  %  No,  there  is  no  man,  unless  some 
noble  soul  that  seems  to  abhor  being  confined  to  so 
ignoble,  base,  and  sordid  a  way  of  travelling  as  these 
coaches  oblige  him  to,  and  who  prefers  a  public 
good  before  his  own  ease  and  advantage,  that  will 
breed  or  keep  horses.  .  .  .  Travelling  in  these 
coaches  can  neither  prove  advantageous  to  men's 
health  or  business,  for  what  advantage  is  it  to  men's 

^  "The  Grand  Concern  of  England  Exi^lained,'"  1673. 


FOURTH  DAY.  215 

health  to  be  called  out  of  their  beds  into  their 
coaches  an  hour  before  day  in  the  morning,  to  be 
hurried  in  them  from  place  to  place  till  one,  two, 
or  three  hours  within  night,  insomuch  that  sitting 
all  day  in  the  summer  time,  stifled  with  heat  and 
choked  with  dust,  or  in  the  winter  time,  starving 
or  freezing  with  cold,  or  choked  with  filthy  fogs? 
They  are  often  brought  into  their  inns  by  torchlight, 
when  it  is  too  late  to  sit  up  to  get  a  supper,  and 
next  morning  they  are  forced  into  the  coach  so  early 
that  they  can  get  no  breakfast.  What  addition  is 
this  to  men's  health  or  business,  to  ride  all  day  with 
strangers  oftentimes  sick,  or  with  diseased  persons, 
or  young  children  crying,  to  whose  humours  they 
are  obliged  to  be  subject,  forced  to  bear  with,  and 
many  times  are  poisoned  with  their  nasty  scents,  and 
crippled  by  the  crowd  of  their  boxes  and  bundles  ? " 

I  seem  to  know  that  man ;  he  was  doubtless  a 
choleric  specimen  of  the  fossilised  country  gentle- 
man, stuck  fast  in  his  own  ruts,  and  all  uncaring- 
how  slowly  the  world  wagged  to  the  millennium. 
He  says  a  great  deal  of  "  man "  and  "  men's 
business,"  but  never  says  a  word  of  the  ladies. 
Are  we  to  infer  that  they  travelled  little,  or  does 
the  writer  write  in  the  larger  sense  of  mankind, 
and  hold,  with  the  philosopher,  that  "man  embraces 
woman  "  I 

However,  protests  to  the  contrary,  coaching  came 
in,  and  horse-riding  practically  went  out.  The  spirit 
of  conservatism,  however,  beaten  back  from  one 
ditch,  clung  always  tenaciously  to  the  next.  The 
fine  old  crusted  spirit  of  exclusiveness  shown  above 


21 6  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

is  admirably  put  by  De  Quincey  when  he  describes 
the  difference  of  caste  supposed  to  exist  between 
inside  and  outside  passengers  on  the  mail  coaches 
when  this  dying  century  was  born. 

There  was  then  a  rigid  rule  which  limited  the 
number  of  passengers  on  a  mail  coach  to  four  inside 
and  three  out,  exclusive,  of  course,  of  driver  and 
guard.  The  three  outsides  were  seated,  by  an  irre- 
fragable regulation  of  the  Post  Office,  in  the  follow- 
ing position,  to  afford  some  degree  of  security  to  the 
mail  custodians.  One  sat  on  the  box  beside  the 
driver ;  the  other  two  immediately  behind  the  box, 
and  well  out  of  reach  of  the  guard  and  mails, 
perched  securely  behind  the  main  structure  of  the 
coach,  armed  with  cutlass  and  blunderbuss,  and 
furnished  in  addition  with  a  horn. 

"  It  had  been,"  says  De  Quincey,  "  the  fixed 
assumption  of  the  four  inside  people  that  they,  the 
illustrious  quaternion,  constituted  a  porcelain  variety 
of  the  human  race,  whose  dignity  would  have  been 
compromised  by  exchanging  one  word  of  civility 
with  the  three  miserable  delf-ware  outsides.  Even 
to  have  kicked  an  outsider  might  have  been  held  to 
attaint  the  foot  concerned  in  that  operation,  so  that 
perhaps  it  would  have  required  an  Act  of  Parliament 
to  restore  its  purity  of  blood.  What  words,  then, 
could  express  the  horror  and  the  sense  of  treason, 
in  that  case,  which  had  happened,  where  all  three 
outsides  (the  trinity  of  Pariahs)  made  a  vain  attempt 
to  sit  down  at  the  same  breakfast-table  or  dinner- 
table  with  the  consecrated  four  ?  I  myself  witnessed 
such  an  attempt ;  and  on  that  occasion  a  benevolent 


FOURTH  DAY.  217 

old  gentleman  endeavoured  to  soothe  his  three  holy 
associates  by  suggesting  that  if  the  ontsides  were 
indicted  for  this  criminal  attempt  at  the  next  assizes, 
the  court  Avould  regard  it  as  a  case  of  lunacy  or 
delirium  tremens  rather  than  that  of  treason. 
England  owes  much  of  her  grandeur  to  the  depth 
of  the  aristocratic  element  in  her  social  composition 
when  pulling  against  her  strong  democracy.  I  am 
not  the  man  to  laugh  at  it.  But  sometimes,  un- 
doubtedly, it  expressed  itself  in  comic  shapes.  The 
course  taken  with  the  infatuated  outsiders,  in  the 
particular  attempt  which  I  have  noticed,  was  that 
the  waiter,  beckoning  them  away  from  the  privileged 
salle-a-manger,  sang  out,  'Uliis  way,  my  good  men,' 
and  then  enticed  these  good  men  away  to  the 
kitchen.  But  that  plan  had  not  always  answered. 
Sometimes,  though  rarely,  cases  occurred  where  the 
intruders,  being  stronger  than  usual,  or  more  vicious 
than  usual,  resolutely  refused  to  budge,  and  so  ftir 
carried  their  point  as  to  have  a  separate  table 
arranged  for  themselves  in  a  corner  of  the  general 
room.  Yet  if  an  Indian  screen  could  be  found 
ample  enough  to  plant  them  out  from  the  very  eyes 
of  the  high  table  or  dais,  it  then  became  possible  to 
assume  as  a  fiction  of  law  that  tlie  three  delf  fellows 
after  all  were  not  present.  They  could  be  ignored 
by  the  porcelain  men  under  the  maxim  that  objects 
not  appearing  and  not  existing  are  governed  by  the 
same  logical  construction." 

And  so  an  end  of  coaching  gossip.  Half  a  mile 
or  so  below  Cuckficld  is  the  picturesque  hamlet  of 
Ansty  Cross,  a  cluster  of  a  few  cottages  and  an  inn, 


2i8  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

the  "  Green  Cross,"  a  sign  which  probably  derives 
from  the  arms  of  some  long-forgotten  local  family. 
A  turnpike  gate  was  used  to  stand  here.  The 
beginning  of  turnpike  gates  was  in  1 700,  when 
Turnpike  Acts  began  to  pass  the  Houses  of  Parlia- 
ment, and  when  good  roads  began  to  be  made 
between  large  towns.  Road-making  had  ended  in 
Britain  with  the  end  of  the  Roman  occupation,  and 
was  not  revived  until  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  Between  1700  and  17 10  twelve  Turnpike 
Acts  received  the  royal  assent,  and  by  1770,  530 
such  Acts  were  in  existence,  and  were  continually 
being  added  to.  The  period  of  authorisation  for  the 
collection  of  tolls  was  at  first  twenty-one  years,  but 
in  1830  these  terms  were  extended  to  thirty-one 
years.  Such  Acts  were,  however,  renewed  from 
time  to  time  as  became  necessary.  Tolls  were 
originally  chargeable  according  to  the  number  of 
wheels,  without  reference  to  weight  carried ;  but  in 
1767  the  first  of  a  series  of  Acts  was  passed,  by 
w^hich  tolls  were  lowered  in  proportion  as  the  breadth 
of  wheels  was  increased.  By  two  Acts  passed  in  the 
42nd  and  58th  of  George  III.,  two  out  of  a  number 
dealing  with  Surrey  and  Sussex  roads,  the  following 
scale  of  tolls  was  authorised  : — 

"For  every  horse,  mare,  gelding,  mule,  or  ass, 
laden  or  unladen,  and  not  drawing,  the  sum  of  one 
penny  halfpenny  : 

"For  every  chaise,  chair,  or  other  such  like  car- 
riage, drawn  by  one  horse,  mare,  gelding,  or  other 
beast  of  draught,  the  sum  of  threepence  : 


^  ' 


.-"1 


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\M:vx^ 


J 

r 


FOURTH  DAY.  219 

"For  every  ciUTicle  or  chair,  or  other  such  like 
carriage,  on  two  wheels  only,  drawn  by  two  or  more 
horses  or  other  beasts  of  draught,  the  sum  of  sixpence : 

"For  every  coach,  chariot,  landau,  berlin,  hearse, 
chaise,  curricle,  barouche,  calash,  or  other  such  like 
carriage  on  more  than  two  wheels,  drawn  by  two  or 
three  horses  or  other  beasts  of  draught  only,  the  sum 
of  ninepence : 

"For  every  coach,  chariot,  landau,  berlin,  hearse, 
chaise,  curricle,  barouche,  calash,  or  other  such  like 
carriage,  drawn  by  four  horses  or  other  beasts  of 
draught,  the  sum  of  one  shilling  : 

"  For  every  coach,  chariot,  landau,  berlin,  hearse, 
chaise,  curricle,  barouche,  calash,  or  other  such  like 
carriage,  drawn  by  more  than  four  horses  or  other 
beasts  of  draught,  the  sum  of  one  shilling  and  six- 
pence : 

"For  every  cart,  dray,  or  other  such  like  carriage, 
drawn  by  one  horse  or  other  beast  of  draught  only, 
the  sum  of  threepence  : 

"For  every  cart,  dray,  or  other  such  like  carriage, 
with  wheels  of  less  breadth  than  six  inches,  drawn 
by  two  horses  or  other  beasts  of  drauglit  only,  the 
sum  of  fourpence  : 

"  For  every  cart,  dray,  or  such  like  carriage,  with 
wheels  of  less  breadth  than  six  inches,  drawn  by 
three  horses  or  other  beasts  of  draught  only,  the  sum 
of  sixpence  : 

"For  every  cart,  dray,  or  such  like  carriage,  with 
wheels  of  the  breadth  of  six  inches  and  upwards, 
drawn  by  four  horses  or  other  beasts  of  draught,  the 
sum  of  fourpence  : 


220  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

"  For  every  waggon  laden  with  hay  or  straw,  the 
sum  of  sixpence  : 

"  For  every  cart  laden  with  hay  or  straw,  the  sum 
of  threepence  : 

"  For  every  waggon  laden  with  turnips,  grains, 
cabbages,  potatoes,  or  any  other  green  fodder,  the 
sum  of  sixpence  : 

"  For  every  cart  laden  with  turnips,  grains,  cab- 
bages, potatoes,  or  any  other  green  fodder,  the  sum 
of  threepence  : 

"  For  every  waggon  not  laden  with  hay  or  straw, 
with  wheels  of  less  breadth  than  six  inches,  drawn 
by  more  than  two  and  not  exceeding  four  horses 
or  other  beasts  of  draught,  the  sum  of  one  shilling  : 

"For  every  such  waggon  with  wheels  of  the 
breadth  of  six  inches  and  upwards,  not  drawn  by 
more  than  four  horses  or  other  beasts  of  draught, 
the  sum  of  sixpence  : 

"  For  every  such  waggon  with  wheels  of  the 
breadth  of  six  inches  and  upwards,  not  drawn  by 
more  than  six  horses  or  other  beasts  of  draught,  the 
sum  of  ninepence  : 

"  And  for  every  such  w^aggon  with  wheels  of  the 
breadth  of  nine  inches  and  upwards,  drawn  by  more 
than  six  horses  or  other  beasts  of  draught,  the  sum 
of  sixpence  : 

"For  every  drove  of  oxen,  cows,  or  neat  cattle, 
the  sum  of  tenpence  per  score,  and  so  in  propor- 
tion for  any  greater  or  less  number :  And  for  every 
drove  of  calves,  pigs,  sheep,  or  lambs,  the  sum  of 
fivepence  per  score,  and  so  in  proportion  for  any 
greater  or  less  number." 


FOURTH  DAY. 


At  Riddens  Farm,  a  picturesque  little  homestead 
with  tiled  front  and  clustered  chimneys,  on  the  left 
hand  l)elow  Ansty,  is  one  of  those  old  Sussex  cast- 
iron  firebacks,  whose  manufacture  is  mentioned  in 
an  earlier  page.     It  is  dated   1622,  and  is  in  design 

and  execution   above  

the  average. 

Below  Ansty,  two 
miles  or  thereby  down 
the  road,  the  little 
river  Adur  is  passed 
at  Bridge  Farm,  and 
the  twin  towns  of  St. 
John's  Common  and 
Burgess  Hill  are 
reached. 

Before    1820  their  '^-^-^^"^  ^^°-"'  fikeback,  riddens  fakm. 

sites  were  fields  and  common  land,  wild  and  gorse- 
covered,  free  and  open.  Few  houses  were  then  in 
sight ;  the  "  Anchor  Inn,"  by  Burgess  Hill,  the 
reputed  haunt  of  smugglers,  who  stored  their  con- 
traband in  the  Moods  and  heaths  close  by  ;  and 
the  "King's  Head,"  at  St.  John's  Common,  with 
two  or  three  cottages — these  were  all. 

St.  John's  Common,  partly  in  Keymer  and  partly 
in  Clayton  parishes,  was  enclosed  piecemeal,  be- 
tween 1828  and  1855,  by  an  arrangement  between 
the  lords  of  the  manors  and  the  copyholders,  who 
divided  the  plunder  between  them.  This  large  tract 
of  land  presently  became  the  site  of  these  towns  of 
St.  John's  Common  and  Burgess  Hill,  which  sprang 
np,  if  not  with  quite  the  rapidity  of  a  Californiau 


222  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

mining  town,  at  least  with  a  celerity  almost  unknown 
in  England.  Their  rapid  rise  is  due  to  the  making 
of  the  Brighton  Railway,  which  has  now  a  station 
for  Burgess  Hill.  Four  acres  only  of  common  land 
were  left,  set  apart  for  the  purpose  of  a  recreation 
ground  for  these  land-grabbing,  mushroom  towns- 
folk ;  but  either  they  required  no  recreation,  or  else 
hungered  for  this  poor  fragment  to  build  upon  ;  for 
although  powers  existed  for  the  expenditure  of 
public  money  for  its  cultivation,  yet  it  remained  for 
over  thirty  years  as  a  place  of  desolation,  covered 
with  ant-hills,  and  a  receptacle  for  the  potsherds  of 
the  community. 

We  shook  the  dust  of  this  rising  brick-making, 
tile,  and  drain-pipe  manufacturing  place  from  off 
our  feet,  and  made  haste  to  leave  it  behind,  coming 
in  two  miles  to  Friar's  Oak, 

"  Friar's  Oak  Inn  "  is  very  old — of  unknown  date. 
It  stands  by  the  roadside  at  a  spot  just  before  you 
come  to  the  forty-third  milestone  from  London. 

Tradition,  little  else,  hath  it  that  here  was  once 
a  monastery  (of  what  order  tradition  saith  not)  in  the 
meadow  opposite  the  inn ;  but  to-day  that  meadow 
is  innocent  of  all  but  cows  and  grass,  and  the  ancient 
oak  that  gives  its  name  to  this  wayside  tavern.  That 
tree  measures  fifteen  feet  six  inches  in  circumference, 
and  is  supposed  to  be  at  least  five  hundred  years 
old.  The  pious  monks  or  friars  are  supposed  to 
have  given  doles  to  poor  wayfarers  beside  its  trunk. 
I'pstairs,  in  a  bedroom  of  the  inn,  hangs  its  original 
sign,  an  oil  painting  upon  a  wooden  panel,  mellowed 
and  obscured  by  time,  representing  a  monk  of  sinister 


■•5!. 


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FOURTH  DAY.  223 

aud  austere  aspect  dancing  beneath  the  oak,  as  the 
Scotchman  joked,  "  wi'  deeficulty."  This  sign  was 
used  to  hang  outside  the  inn.  Stolen  many  years 
ago,  it  was  subsequently  discovered  in  London  by 
the  merest  accident,  was  purchased  for  a  trifling 
sum,  and  restored  to  its  bereft  signpost.  The 
innkeeper,  however,  thinking  that  what  befell  once 
might  happen  again,  hung  the  cherished  panel  within 
the  house,  where  it  remains  to  this  day. 

We  left  our  knapsacks  at  the  inn,  intending  to 
spend  the  afternoon  on  the  Downs  above  Clayton, 
and  to  return  here  for  the  night. 

From  Friar's  Oak  it  is  but  a  step  to  that  newest 
creation  among  Brighton's  suburbs,  Clayton  Park, 
its  clustering  red-brick  villas,  building  estates,  and 
half-formed  roads  adjoining  the  station  of  Hassocks 
Gate,  which,  by  the  way,  the  railway  authorities 
term  "  Hassocks,"  tout  court.  The  name  recalls 
certain  dusty  contrivances  of  straw  and  carpeting 
artfully  contrived  for  the  devout  to  stumble  over  in 
church.  But  not  to  incur  the  suspicion  of  tripping 
over  the  name  as  here  applied,  it  may  be  mentioned 
that  "hassock"  is  the  Anglo-Saxon  name  for  a  coppice 
or  small  wood ;  and  there  are  really  many  of  these 
at  and  around  Hassocks  Gate  to  this  day.  At  Stone- 
pound,  where  a  road,  leading  on  the  left  hand  to 
Clayton  Park  and  on  the  right  to  Hurstpierpoint, 
crosses  the  Brighton  road,  there  stood  formerly 
Stonepound  turnpike  gate,  one  of  the  nine  gates 
that  barred  the  way  from  London  in  1826.  They 
began  at  Kcnnington  Church,  witli  one  at  Croydon ; 
another  at  Foxley  Hatch  by  the  twelfth  milestone, 


224  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

half  a  mile  past  Piuiey  House  ;  and  one  at  Frenches, 
nineteen  miles  four  furlongs  from  London — that  is 
to  say,  just  before  you  come  into  Red  Hill  streets. 
Across  Earlswood  Common,  at  Salford,  another  gate 
spanned  the  road ;  with  one  each  at  Horley  and 
Ansty  Cross.  After  Stonepound,  there  was  but  one 
more,  and  that  was  at  Preston.^  The  amount  of  toll 
was  regulated  not  only  by  the  number  of  wheels  to 
a  vehicle,  but  also  by  their  wddth.  The  broad 
dished  wheels  of  the  old  stage-waggons  were  not  so 
constructed  solely  for  strength  and  durability,  but 
because  the  broader  the  wheels  the  smaller  the  toll, 
the  idea  being  that  a  wheel  of  say  twenty  inches  in 
breadth  would  do  little  in  the  way  of  rutting  the 
doughy  highways  of  an  era  which  knew  not  a  Telford 
nor  a  M'Adam. 

Parishes  in  those  days  borrowed  money  for  the 
improvement  of  their  roads  upon  the  security  of  their 
turnpike  tolls,  and  it  was  a  frequent  practice  for 
them  to  farm  out  sections  of  the  highway  to  specu- 
lative folk  for  an  annual  sum,  the  speculator  in  each 
case  to  make  what  he  could  out  of  his  particular 
pike,  bound  though  by  the  recognised  tariff.  In 
those  cases  the  bilking  of  a  pikeman  proved  an  en- 
grossing matter  :  it  w^as  merely  a  question  of  whether 
you  "had"  the  pikeman  or  he  cheated  you  — 
there  was  no  question  of  morals  in  the  affair  at 
all.  A  turnpike  ticket  was  available  for  return  the 
same  day,  and  would,  in  addition,  admit  through  the 

^  In  1829  there  were  three  additional  gates:  one  at  Crawley,  an- 
other at  Hand  Cross,  before  you  came  to  the  "  Eed  Lion,"  and  one  more 
at  Slough  Green.  Meanwhile  the  Horley  gate  on  this  route  had  dis- 
appeared.    Salford  gate  was  the  last  remaining  on  the  Brighton  road. 


FOURTH  DAY.  225 

next  gate.  If  the  pikeman  found  it  possible  to 
chouse  you  out  of  your  free  return,  or  his  colleague 
at  the  next  gate  could  manage  to  charge  you  for  its 
passage,  he  would  do  so.  A  few  gates  lingered 
on  even  until  the  velocipede  made  its  appearance 
on  the  road.  The  toll  for  one  was  three-half- 
pence. 

Twenty  years  ago,  in  this  part  of  Sussex,  the  cost 
of  maintaining  the  road  was,  at  an  average,  ^35  a 
mile.  Under  the  new  authority,  the  East  Sussex 
County  Council,  the  amount  has  been  usually  ^81 
a  mile,  and  now  the  country  folk  declare  that  the 
roads  were  in  better  condition  under  the  old  regime. 

Here  the  South  Downs  come  full  upon  the  view, 
crowned  at  Clayton  Hill  with  windmills.  Ditchling 
Beacon  to  the  left,  and  the  more  commanding  height 
of  Wolstonbury  to  the  extreme  right,  flank  this  great 
wall  of  earth,  chalk,  and  grass — Wolstonbury  semi- 
circular in  outline  and  bare,  save  only  for  some  few 
clumps  of  yellow  gorse  and  other  small  bushes.  And 
now  the  road  begins  to  climb  Clayton  Hill,  a  "  name," 
to  paraphrase  Shakespeare,  "  of  fear,  unpleasing  to 
a  '  cyclist's' ear,"  and  the  Gothic  battlemented  en- 
trance to  Clayton  Tunnel  looms  large  on  the  right 
hand  as  you  cross  the  railway  bridge.  A\'as  ever 
Gothic  architecture  so  misplaced  as  here,  where  that 
fine  convention  of  bye-gone  centuries  in  brick  and 
masonry  is  lugged  in  to  set  off  with  an  attempt  at 
beauty  the  crowning  achievement  in  usefulness  of 
the  nineteenth ! 

From  the  summit  of  Clayton  Hill,  above  the  blow- 
holes and  telegraph  posts  that  plentifully  garnish  the 

p 


226 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


tnnners  course,  is  a  splendid  and  wide-embracing 
view.  Clayton  Hill  has  been  thrice  fatal  to  rash 
cyclists,  who,  ere  the  "  safety  "  type  of  machine  was 
introduced,  adventured  down  its  steep  and  winding 
roadway.  To-day,  though  its  descent  can  be,  and 
often  is,  accomplished  on  the  cycle,  it  is  only  your 
hare-brained  wheelman  who  will  attempt  it.  Better 
walk  down  and  lose  a  few  minutes  than  rush  it  on 


THE   HOBBY-HORSE   AND    THE   SAFETY   BICYCLE. 


wheels  and  be  knocked,  perchance,  into  a  jelly  and 
eternity.  But  the  cyclist  was  ever  of  a  reckless, 
devil-daring  nature,  else  how  could  he  in  the  begin- 
ning have  bestrode  the  hobby-horse,  or  later  the 
velocipede-boneshaker  ? 


FOURTH  DAY. 


'.  2  7 


TJIE  VELOCIPEDE. 

A  breast  secured  with  triple  brass 
(As  Horace  hath  it)  his  had  been 
Who  first,  poor  wretch,  essayed  to  pass, 

Good  lack  ! 
Along  the  road's  uncertain  track 

On  tliis  machine. 


His  iron-shod  wheel  and  creaking  spokes. 
Of  solid  timber,  down  the  hills 
Would  rumble,  and  the  country  folks 

Would  stare. 
With  horrid  jokes  and  stupid  air 

To  see  his  "  spills." 


And  ever,  as  from  out  the  dust 
The  Thing,  uninjured  from  the  fray, 


228  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

AVoukl  rise,  the  rider  stood  and  cussed 

Like  mad, 
And  presently,  all  torn  and  sad, 

Would  ride  away. 

The  hero  of  that  early  day 

Is  changed  by  Time's  all-changing  hand : 

His  raven  locks  are  scant  and  grey, 

Alas! 
He  learns,  full-^yell,  all  flesh  is  grass  : 

'Twill  pass  away. 


BONESHAKEE  OF    1 868.      BUILT   OF  IRON,   WITH  lEOX-SHOD   WHEELS 
AXD   WOODEN   SPOKES. 

But  changeless,  though  time  fly  away, 
"Will  he  that  cycle.     Nothing  can 
Affect  its  massive  frame.     Decay 

To  seek 
Its  youth  remains.     'Tis  (so  to  speak) 

The  Better  :\Ian. 

But  a  tragedy  of  the  awfuUest  and  most  heart- 
shaking  description  belongs  to  Clayton  Hill,  for 
in  the  tunnel  below,  on  Sunday,  August  25,   1861, 


FOURTH  DAY.  229 

befell  a  railway  accident  of  the  most  horrible 
nature,  by  which  twenty-four  persons  in  all  lost 
their  lives,  and  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  were 
injured. 

Three  trains  were  timed  to  leave  Brighton  Station 
shortly  after  eight  o'clock  on  that  fatal  morning,  two 
of  them  filled  to  crowding  with  excursionists,  the 
other,  an  ordinary  train,  well  filled  and  bound  for 
London.  Their  times  for  starting  were  8,  8.5,  and 
8.30  respectively,  but  owing  to  delays  occasioned  by 
press  of  traffic,  they  did  not  set  out  until  considerably 
later,  at  8.28,  8.31,  and  8.35.  At  such  terribly  short 
intervals  were  they  started  in  times  when  no  block 
system  existed  to  render  such  close  following  com- 
paratively safe. 

But  by  reason  of  Clayton  Tunnel  being  considered 
then  so  dangerous  a  place,  there  was  situated  at 
either  end  (north  and  south  entrances)  a  signal- 
cabin  furnished  with  telegraphic  instruments  and 
signal  apparatus,  by  which  the  signalman  at  one 
end  of  the  tunnel  could  communicate  with  his 
fellow  at  the  other,  and  could  notify  "  train  in " 
or  "  train  out,"  as  might  happen.  This  practically 
formed  a  primitive  sort  of  "block  system,"  especi- 
ally devised  for  use  in  this  mile  and  a  quarter's 
gloomy  burrow. 

But  now,  see  what  happened.  The  first  train 
from  Brighton  passed  in,  and,  on  its  way  to  the 
tunnel,  failed  to  turn  a  "self-acting"  signal  placed 
in  the  cutting  some  distance  from  the  southern  en- 
trance, a  signal  which  upon  the  passage  of  every 
train  would,   in  theory,   set  itself  at  "danger"  for 


230  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

any  following  train,  until  placed  at  "  line  clear"  from 
the  nearest  cabin. 

On  this  occasion  the  theory  failed  of  becoming 
practice,  and  the  second  train,  following  upon  the 
heels  of  the  first,  passed  all  unsuspecting,  and 
dashed  from  daylight  into  the  tunnel's  mouth ; 
the  signalman,  who  had  not  received  a  message 
from  the  other  end  of  the  tunnel  being  clear,  franti- 
cally waving  his  red  flag  to  stop  it.  This  signal 
apparently  unnoticed  by  the  driver,  the  train 
passed  in. 

At  this  moment  the  third  train  came  into  view, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  signalman  was  advised 
of  the  tunnel  being  clear  of  the  first.  Meanwhile, 
the  driver  of  the  second  train,  who  had  noticed  the 
red  flag,  was,  unknown  to  the  signalman,  backing 
his  train  out  again.  A  signal  was  sent  to  the  north 
cabin  for  it,  "  train  in  ; "  but  the  signalman  there, 
thinking  this  to  be  a  mere  repetition  of  the  first 
message,  replied,  "  train  out,"  referring,  of  course, 
to  the  first  train. 

The  tunnel  being  to  the  southern  signalman  ap- 
parently clear,  the  third  train  was  allowed  to  proceed, 
and  met,  midway,  away  from  daylight,  the  retreating 
second  train.  The  collision  was  terrible  ;  the  two 
rearward  carriages  of  the  second  train  were  smashed 
to  pieces,  and  the  engine  of  the  third,  reared  upon 
their  wreck,  poured  fire  and  steam  and  scalding 
water  upon  the  poor  wretches  who,  wounded  but 
not  killed  by  the  impact,  were  struggling  to  free 
themselves  from  the  splintered  and  twisted  remains 
of  the  two  carriages. 


FOURTH  DAY.  231 

The  heap  of  wreckage  was  piled  iij)  to  the  roof 
of  the  tunnel,  whose  interior  presented  a  dreadful 
scene,  the  engine  fire  throwing  a  lurid  glare  around, 
but  partly  obscured  by  the  blinding,  scalding  clouds 
of  steam  ;  while  this  suddenly  created  Inferno  re- 
sounded with  the  prayers,  shrieks,  shouts,  and  curses 
of  injured  and  scatheless  alike,  all  fearful  of  the 
coming  of  another  train  to  add  to  the  already  suffi- 
ciently hideous  ruin. 

Fortunately  no  further  catastrophe  occurred  ;  but 
nothing  of  horror  was  wanting,  neither  in  the  mag- 
nitude nor  in  the  circumstances  of  the  disaster, 
which  long  remained  in  the  memories  of  those  who 
read,  and  was  impossible  of  oblivion  in  those  who 
witnessed  it. 

On  the  Downs  we  lay  and  lingered  all  the  after- 
noon and  watched  the  sheep  and  shepherds,  and, 
high  above  the  Weald,  saw  in  the  blue  distance  the 
wall  of  the  North  Downs  stretching  east  and  west, 
and  in  the  level  lands  between  these  two  ranges 
noted  the  white  steam-trails  of  the  crawling  trains. 
Snail-like  they  seemed  from  the  vantage  of  this 
happy  eminence,  and  feeble  their  starting  whistles 
as  they  moved  out  of  Hassocks  station  down  below, 
presently  to  burrow  with  many  rumblings  beneath 
these  sunny  hillsides. 

Sheep  graze  here  in  thousands,  and  South  Down 
mutton  is  still  more  in  tlie  land  than  a  memory. 
Shepherds,  with  crooks  of  traditional  pattern,  though 
they  be  no  longer  of  the  famous  Pyecombe  make, 
still  watch  their  flocks  here.  All  along  the  hill- 
sides  is  heard   the   dull   and  hollow   sound  of  the 


232 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


sheep-bells,  as  the  sheep,  whose  fleeces  begin  now 
to  show  promise  of  a  good  crop  for  the  shears  in 
June,  move  about  all  reckless  of  Smithfield.  The 
shearing  will  be  shorn  as  in  uncounted  seasons  past, 
but  I  fear  that  neither  the  words  nor  the  airs  of 


these  old  shearing-songs  will  ever  again  awaken 
the  echoes  of  hillsides  in  the  daytime,  nor  make 
the  roomy  interiors  of  barns  ring  again  o'  nights,  as 
they  were  wont  to  do  langsyne,  when  the  convivial 
shearing    supper    was    held,    and  the    ale    hummed 


FOURTH  DAY.  233 

in  the  cup,  and,   later  in  the  evening,  in  tlie  head 
also. 

Here  are  the  two  old  country  songs  referred  to. 
Their  scansion  is  not  of  the  best,  and  their  senti- 
ments are  calculated  to  give  the  patrons  of  the 
pump  an  effect  as  of  shameless  bacchanalian  revels  ; 
but  though  they  are  so  redolent  of  ale,  and  though 
the  feet  of  their  lines  have  what  may  be  construed 
by  the  uncharitable  into  a  beery  stumble,  yet  they 
are  greatly  preferable  to  the  songs  the  shepherd 
sings  to-day — when  he  sings  at  all.  Musical  he  is 
not ;  it  is  only  your  idyllic  Watteau  shepherd  who, 
decked  out  wdth  ribbons,  pipes  plaintively  to  his 
wondering  flock. 

OLD  SHEEP-SHEAEING  SONG. 

Come  all  my  jolly  boys,  and  we'll  together  go 

Abroad  with  our  masters,  to  shear  the  lamb  and  ewe ; 

All  in  the  merry  month  of  June,  of  all  times  in  the  year. 

It  always  comes  in  season,  the  ewes  and  lambs  to  shear ; 

And   then  we   must   work  hard,    boys,    until  our   backs   do 

ache. 
And   our   master   he    will    l)ring   us   beer   Avhenever   Ave    do 

lack. 

Our  master  he  comes  round  to  see  our  work  is  doing  well, 
And  lie  cries,   "  Shear   them   close,   men,   for   there   is   little 

wool ; " 
"Oh,  yes,  good  master,"  we  reply,  "we'll  do  the  best  we  can;" 
"When  our  captain  calls,  "Shear  close,  boys,"  to  each  and  ev'ry 

man ; 
And  at  some  i:)laces  still  we  have  tliis  story  all  day  long ; — 
"  Close  them,  boys !  shear  tliena  well ! "  and  this  is  all  their 


234 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


And  then  our  noble  captain  doth  unto  our  master  say, 

"  Come,  let  us  have  one  bucket  of  your  good  ale,  I  pray." 

He  turns  unto  our  captain,  and  makes  him  this  reply  : — 

"You  shall  have  the  best  of  beer,  I  promise,  presently." 

Then  out  with  a  bucket  pretty  Betsy  she  doth  come, 

And  master  says,  "  ]\Iaid,  mind  and  see  that  ev'ry  man  has  some." 


THE   DOWXS. 


This  is  our  merry  pastime  while  we  the  sheep  do  shear, 

And  though  we  are  such  merry  boys,  we  work  hard,  I  declare ; 

And  when  'tis  night,  and  we  have  done,  our  master  is  more  free, 

And  stores  us  well  Avith  good  strong  beer,  and  pipes  and  tobaccee. 

So  sit  we  all,  and  drink  and  smoke  and  sing  and  roar, 

Till  we  become  more  merry  far  than  e'er  we  were  before. 


When  all  our  work  is  done,  and  all  our  sheep  are  shorn, 
Then  home  with  our  captain  to  drink  the  ale  that's  strong : 


FOURTH  DAY.  235 

'Tis  a  barrel,  then,  of  liuiu-cap,  which  we  call  the  Black  Ram, 
Aiid  each  does  sit  and  swagger,  and  swear  that  he's  a  man ; 
But  yet,  before  'tis  night,  I'll  stand  you  half-a-crown. 
That,  if  you  ha'n't  a  special  care,  that  ram  will  knock  you  down. 


OLD  SHEEP-8I1KARING  SONG. 

Here  the  rosebuds  in  June  and  the  violets  are  blowing. 
The  small  birds  they  warble  from  every  green  bough  ; 

Here's  the  pink  and  the  lily, 

And  the  datfydowndilly. 
To  adorn  and  perfume  the  sweet  meadows  in  June. 
'Tis  all  before  the  plough  the  fat  oxen  go  slow ; 
But  the  lasses  and  lads  to  the  sheep-shearing  go. 

Our  shepherds  rejoice  in  their  fine  heavy  fleeces, 

And  frisky  young  lambs  which  their  flocks  do  increase ; 

Each  lad  takes  his  lass. 

All  on  the  green  grass, 

Where  the  pink  and  the  lily,  &c. 

Here  stands  our  brown  jug,  and  'tis  filled  Avi'  good  ale. 
Our  table,  our  table,  increase  and  not  fail ; 

We'll  joke  and  we'll  sing, 

And  we'll  dance  in  a  ring, 

Where  the  pink  and  tlie  lih^,  &c. 

When  the  shearing  is  over,  and  harvest  is  nigh, 
We  prepare  for  the  fields,  our  strength  for  to  try ; 

We  reap  and  Ave  mow. 

We  plough  and  we  soav  ; 

Oh  !  the  piidv  and  the  lily,  Sec. 

Later  in  the  day,  after  having  scorched  in  the 
hot  afternoon  sun  on  the  hills  of  Ditchling  Beacon, 
we  returned  to  Friar's  Oak,  to  a  late  tea,  welcome 
after  the  climbings  and  pantings  up  and  along  the 
Downs. 


236  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

While  we  discussed  the  cheerful  meal,  there 
came  from  other  regions  of  the  house — from  the 
sanded  public  parlour  of  the  inn,  as  we  afterwards 
discovered — sounds  of  revelry  and  song  :  the  rustics 
were  making  merry  after  work  was  done.  A 
confused  hammering,  interspersed  with  the  hum 
of  voices  and  the  ear-grating  scratching  of  hob- 
nailed boots  on  gritty  floors,  preceded  an  inter- 
minable song,  whose  words,  saving  only  those  of 
the  chorus,  were  indistinguishable,  and  even  those 
were  only  pieced  together  by  the  attentive  ear  after 
several  repetitions. 

The  singer  of  the  song  could  have  urged  no 
claims  to  regard  by  reason  of  his  singing,  neither 
was  there  any  quality,  other  than  that  of  volume, 
to  be  discerned  in  the  choral  voices,  whose  curi- 
ously staccato  efforts  at  length  resolved  themselves 
into  this  refrain  : — 

"For — we're — all — ^jol-ly — f  el-lows — that — fol-low — the — 
plough." 

Curious  to  see  what  manner  of  company  this 
might  be,  we  took  the  earliest  opportunity  of  look- 
ing in  upon  the  jovial  gathering.  They  proved  to 
be,  as  might  be  inferred  from  their  inharmonic 
chorus,  farm  labourers,  ploughmen,  shepherds,  and 
others,  bent  evidently  upon  contriving  a  mellow 
evening,  altogether  independent  of  atmospheric  con- 
ditions. Descendants  these  of  many  generations  of 
South  Down  shepherds,  not  though,  alas  !  so  paro- 
chial as  their  forbears,  and  so,  less  interesting.  It 
was  of  a  simpler  generation  that  the  following  stoiy 


FOURTH  DAY. 


237 


was  told ;  not,  indeed,  that  even  the  modern 
rustic  understands  hydraulics,  but  familiarity  has 
banished  curiosity. 

When  beer-pumps  were  first  introduced  into  the 
bars  of  country  inns,  they  excited  a  great  deal  of 
curiosity  amongst  the  bumpkins,  and  they  would  con- 
tinually pry  into  and  handle  them,  the  more  inquisi- 
tive in  that  they  could  understand  little  or  nothing 
of  the  principle  of  hydraulics  upon  which  these 
machines  work.  This  meddling  curiosity  greatly 
annoyed  the  landlord  of  one  of  these  old  roadside 
inns,  and  he,  having  a  kind  of  unlettered  fancy  for 
writing  verses,  chose  to  set  up  a  metrical  notice  for- 
bidding any  interference  with  the  machines  : — 

"  CAUTION. 

"  Whoever  presumes  with  these  here  cocks  for  to  meddle. 
Shall  pay  a  innt  of  beer  :  that  there  is  the  riddle ; 
But  whoever  presumes  these  here  cocks  for  to  draw, 
Shall  pay  a  pot  of  beer ;  that  there  is  the  law. 
But  if  he  doesn't  pay  that,  he  shall  be  soused  in  the  pond 

with  the  ducks : 
All  this  liere  comes  of  meddling  witli  them  there  cocks." 

But  the  Sussex  peasant  is  not  by  any  means  alto- 
gether bereft  of  provincialism.  Sussex,  till  lately  a 
remote  and  difficulty  county,  plunged  in  its  sloughs 
and  isolated  by  reason  of  its  forests,  is  still  a  strong- 
hold of  the  stolid  Saxon,  and  its  peasantry,  even  in 
these  times  of  racial  displacements,  are  rooted,  it 
seems,  as  firmly  as  ever  to  what  Camden  calls  this 
"queachy  soil."  Words  of  Saxon  origin  are  still 
current  in  the  talk  of  the  country-side ;    folk-tales, 


238  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

told  in  times  when  the  South  Saxon  kingdom  was 
yet  a  power  of  the  Heptarchy,  still  exist  in  remote 
corners,  currently  with  the  latest  ribald  song  from 
the  London  halls  ;  superstitions  linger,  as  may  be 
proved  by  he  who  pursues  his  inquiries  judiciously, 
and  thought  moves  slowly  still  in  the  bucolic  mind. 

The  Norman  conquest  has  left  few  traces  upon  the 
population.  They  are  the  ruling  families  only  who 
show  Norman  descent  or  admixture  of  blood.  The 
peasant  is  still  the  fair-haired,  blue-eyed  Saxon  he 
ever  has  been  ;  his  occupations,  too,  tend  to  slowness 
of  speech  and  mind.  The  Sussex  man  is  by  the 
very  rarest  chance  engaged  in  any  manufacturing 
industries.  He  is  by  choice  and  by  force  of  circum- 
stances ploughman,  woodman,  shepherd,  market- 
gardener,  or  carter,  and  is  become  heavy  as  his  soil, 
and  curiously  old-world  in  habit.  All  which  traits 
are  delightful  to  the  preternaturally  sharp  Londoner, 
whose  nerves  occupy  the  most  important  place  in 
his  being.  These  country  folk  are  new  and  inte- 
resting creatures  for  study  to  him  who  is  weary  of 
that  acute  product  of  Jin-de-siede  civilisation — the 
London  arab. 

Sussex  ways  are,  many  of  them,  still  curiously 
patriarchal.  But  a  few  years  ago,  and  ploughing 
was  commonly  performed  in  these  fields  by  oxen  : 
even  to-day  those  teams  are  still  met  with.  Shep- 
herds watched  their  flocks  on  the  South  Downs  as 
they  have  done  here  since  history  became  a  chrono- 
logy of  four  figures.  Their  speech,  like  their  dress, 
has  varied  somewhat  in  the  flight  of  centuries,  but 
their  occupation  has  changed  not  a  whit  since  the 


'?j — - 


4    ''^-'■' 


% 


FOURTH  DAY.  239 

declining  period  of  Saxon  rule,  when  the  tenth  cen- 
tury merged  into  the  eleventh. 

Their  cottages  are  the  same  as  ever ;  thatched  for 
the  greater  part,  and  within,  the  old  household  scene 
of  living  room,  with  yawning  fireplace,  and,  com- 
monly, red-bricked  floor.  The  capacious  settle  is 
drawn  up  to  the  blaze  ;  brass  candlesticks  of  many 
mouldings  shine  upon  the  high  mantelshelf,  flanked, 
indeed,  by  specimens  of  a  modern  science,  daguerreo- 
types, silhouettes,  and  photographs  of  the  cotter's 
relatives  ;  but  these,  with  the  occasional  weekly 
paper  and  the  familiar  gaudy  calendar  from  the 
village  grocer's,  are  generally  the  only  distinctive 
products  of  our  times  you  shall  readily  find.  To  the 
contrary,  the  ancient  home-made  sampler  and  the 
time-honoured  tankard  are  more  frequently  met 
with. 

Outside,  in  the  garden,  grow  homely  flowers  and 
useful  vegetables,  and  perhaps  by  the  gnarled  apple- 
trees  there  stands  in  the  sun  a  row  of  beehives, 
which  may  indeed  be  purchased,  but,  so  lingering 
superstition  hath  it,  with,  perhaps,  a  subtle  touch 
of  worldly  wisdom  and  modern  commercialism,  only 
with  gold  ;  for 

"  If  you  -wish  your  bees  to  thrive. 
Gold  must  be  paid  for  ev'ry  hive ; 
For  when  they're  bought  Avith  otlier  money, 
There  will  be  neither  swarm  nor  honey." 

Indeed,  the  year  was  used  to  be  one  long  round 
of  superstitious  customs  and  observances  for  the 
Sussex  peasant,  and,  under  favourable  circumstances 
and   in   favouring  places,  it  is   so  even  now.     But 


240  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

superstition  is  shy,  and  not  to  be  discovered  of  the 
casual  wayfarer ;  it  is  here,  though,  and  will  remain 
while  human  nature  remains  what  it  is. 

In  January  began  the  round,  for  from  Christmas 
Eve  to  Twelfth  Day  was  the  proper  time  for  "wors- 
ling,"  that  is  "  wassailing "  the  orchards,  but  more 
particularly  the  apple-trees.  The  country-folk  would 
gather  round  the  trees  and  chant  in  chorus,  rapping 
the  trunks  the  while  with  sticks — 

"  Stand  fast  root,  bear  well  top  ; 
Pray,  good  God,  send  vis  a  howling  crop  ; 
Ev'ry  twig,  apples  big  ; 
Ev'ry  bough,  apples  enow' ; 
Hats  full,  caps  full, 
Full  quarters,  sacks  full." 

These  wassailing  folk  were  generally  known  as 
"howlers;"  "doubtless  rightly,"  says  a  Sussex 
archaeologist,  "  for  real  old  Sussex  music  is  in  a 
minor  key,  and  can  hardly  be  distinguished  from 
howling."  This  knowledge  enlightens  our  reading 
of  the  pages  of  the  Rev.  Giles  Moore,  of  Horsted 
Keynes,  when  he  records: — "1670,  26th  Dec,  I 
gave  the  howling  boys  6d.  ; "  a  statement  which,  if 
not  illumined  by  acquaintance  with  these  old  cus- 
toms, would  be  altogether  incomprehensible. 

Then,  if  mud  were  brought  into  the  house  in  the 
month  of  January,  the  cleanly  housewife,  at  other 
times  jealous  of  her  spotless  floors,  would  have 
nothing  of  reproof  to  say,  for  was  this  not  "January 
butter,"  and  the  harbinger  of  luck  to  all  beneath 
the  roof-tree  ? 

Saints'    days,    too,    had    their    observances  ;    the 


FOURTH  DAY.  241 

habits  of  bird  and  beast  were  the  almanacs  and 
weather  warnings  of  the  villagers,  all  innocent  of 
any  other  meteorological  department,  and  they  have 
been  handed  down  in  doggerel  rhyme,  like  this  of 
the  Cuckoo,  to  the  present  day : — 

"  In  April  he  shows  his  bill, 
In  May  he  sings  0'  night  and  day, 
In  June  he'll  change  his  tune, 
By  July  prepares  to  fly. 
By  August  away  he  must. 
If  he  stay  till  September, 
'Tis  as  much  as  the  oldest  man 
Can  ever  remember." 

If  he  stayed  till  September,  he  might  possibly  see 
a  sight  which  no  mere  human  eye  ever  beheld  : 
he  might  observe  a  practice  to  which  old  Sussex 
folk  know  the  Evil  One  to  be  addicted.  For  on 
Old  Michaelmas  Day,  September  loth,  the  Devil 
goes  round  the  country,  and — dirty  fellow — spits 
on  the  blackberries.  Should  any  persons  eat  one 
on  the  nth  of  September,  they,  or  some  one  of 
their  kin,  will  surely  die  or  fall  into  great  trouble 
before  the  close  of  the  year. 

But  to  come  down  from  these  malignant  doings 
to  domestic  matters,  we  shall  find  that  the  Sunday 
next  before  Advent  is  widely  known  as  "Stir-up 
Sunday,"  from  the  Collect  for  that  day,  which 
commences  "  Stir  up,  Me  beseech  Thee,  O  Lord," 
and  reminds  both  the  grocer  to  lay  in  his  stock 
of  Christmas  fruits,  and  the  housewife  to  think 
upon  the  "  stirring  up  "  of  her  plum-pudding. 

Sussex  has    neither  the   imaginative   Celtic   race 


242  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

of  Cornwall  nor  that  county's  fantastic  scenery  to 
inspire  legends ;  but  is  it  at  all  wonderful  that 
old  beliefs  die  hard  in  a  county  so  inaccessible 
as  this  has  hitherto  been  ?  We  have  read  travellers' 
tales  of  woful  happenings  on  the  road ;  hear  now 
Defoe,  who  is  writing  in  the  year  1724,  of  another 
proof  of  heavy  going  on  the  highways: — "I  saw," 
says  he,  "  an  ancient  lady,  and  a  lady  of  very  good 
quality,  I  assure  you,  drawn  to  church  in  her  coach 
by  six  oxen  ;  nor  was  it  done  in  frolic  or  humour, 
but  from  sheer  necessity,  the  way  being  so  stiff  and 
deep  that  no  horses  could  go  in  it."  All  which 
says  much  for  the  piety  of  this  ancient  lady.  Only 
a  few  years  later,  in  1729,  died  Dame  Judith, 
widow  of  Sir  Henry  Hatsell,  who  in  her  will, 
dated  loth  January  1728,  directed  that  her  body 
should  be  buried  at  Preston,  should  she  happen 
to  die  at  such  a  time  of  year  when  the  roads  were 
passable ;  otherwise,  at  any  place  her  executors 
might  think  suitable.  It  so  happened  that  she 
died  in  the  month  of  June,  so  compliance  with  her 
wishes  was  possible. 

We  took  an  evening  walk  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Ditchling  and  Wivelsfield,  starting  as  the  sun 
began  to  set. 

The  gloaming  is,  apart  from  the  bleating  senti- 
mentalist of  the  drawing-room  ballad,  a  charming- 
time.  Noon-day  glare  is  gone  ;  the  sharp  photo- 
graph-like distinctness  of  objects  near  and  far  is 
vanished  with  the  sun,  and  in  its  place  come  the 
tender  tones  and  suggestive  haze  of  'tween  lights. 
Now  does  the  prosaic  villa  of  commerce  loom  largely 


FOURTH  DAY. 


243 


upon  the  imagination  in  the  misty  valley,  and  the 
trees  and  wayside  bushes  begin  to  assume  delight- 
fully dreadful  forms,  with  beckoning  fingers  of  top- 
most branches,  and  trunks  of  strange  and  awesome 
shapes.     Now  does  the  cool  breeze  of  evening  rise 


5 

/><</ 


,p, 


AT   CLAYTON. 


^/'<^/.  iv 


.\. 


\ 


and  play  upon  the  electric  wires  in  tunes  now  low, 
now  in  throbbing  loudness,  now  in  some  witch- 
inspired  aeolian  melody,  and  again  in  an  access  of 
demoniacal  frenzy.  It  is  only  the  circumstance  of 
sunlight  that  makes  the  telegraph  wire  a  prosaic 
object. 


244  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

Ditchling  and  Wivelsfield  villages  were,  as  night 
fell,  mere  formless  blots  upon  the  whiteness  of  bye- 
roads,  glimmering  faintly  from  commons  and  waifs 
and  strays  and  selvedges  of  common  land ;  lights  in 
cottage  windows  only  accentuated  the  murk  and 
gloom  of  their  thatched  roofs  and  heavy  chimneys 
set  against  the  sky.  Jacob's  Post,  standing,  as  it 
has  done  since  1734,  on  Ditchling  Common,  an 
authentic  fragment  of  a  gibbet,  seemed  well  suited 
to  such  a  place  and  hour.  It  takes  its  name  from 
Jacob  Harris,  a  Jew  pedlar,  who  committed  a  triple 
murder  at  the  inn  close  by,  and  was  hanged  for  it  at 
Horsham  Gaol,  afterwards  being  swung  in  chains 
near  the  scene  of  his  crime.  Pieces  of  wood  from 
this  gallows-tree  were  long  and  highly  esteemed 
by  country-folk  as  charms,  and  were  often  carried 
about  with  them  as  preventatives  of  all  manner  of 
accidents  and  diseases ;  indeed,  its  present  meagre 
proportions  are  due  to  this  practice  and  belief. 

From  Ditchling  we  returned  to  Friar's  Oak,  there 
to  sup  and  sleep  and  dream  horribly  of  Jacob  and 
the  "  Dancing  Friar." 


FIFTH   DAY. 


And  now  for  Brighton,  nine  miles  away,  past  the 
little  Early  English  church  of  Clayton,  and  over 
Clayton  Hill  to  Pyecombe  Street,  where  the 
alternative  route  vid  Albourne  rejoins  the  classic 
road,  and  where  the  equally  meagre  church  of 
Pyecombe  stands  beside  a  blacksmith's  forge,  on  a 
commanding  spur  of  the  rolling  downs. 

The  churches  of  Pyecombe,  Patcham,  Preston, 
and  Clayton  are  very  similar  in  appearance  ex- 
teriorly, all  with  a  shingled  spirelet  of  insignificant 
proportions.  This  little  Norman  church,  consisting 
of  nave  (a  tiny  nave)  and  chancel  only,  is  chiefly 
interesting  as  possessing  a  triple  chancel  arch  and 
an  ancient  font. 

Over  the  chancel  arch  hangs  a  painting  of  the 
lioyal  Arms,  painted  in  the  time  of  George  111., 
faded  and  tawdry,  with  dandified  unicorn  and  a 
gamboge  lion,  all  teeth  and  mane,  regarding  the 
congregation  on  Sundays,  and  empty  benches  at 
other  times,  with  the  most  amiable  of  grins. 
Other  points  of  interest  there  are  none  at 
Pyecombe,     except     the     "  Plough "     Inn,     at    the 


246 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


junction  of  the  roads,  a  hostelry  of  some  age  and 
of  pleasant  appearance. 

And  so  down  the  few  remaining  miles,  past 
Pangdean,  where,  by  an  unkempt  farm,  several  acro- 
batic ducks  were  performing  astonishing  feats  of 
agility,  standing  on  their  heads  and  somersault- 
ing in  a  roadside  pond  of  dirty  water,  to  Patcham, 
which  rejoices,  or  may  be  supposed  to  rejoice,  in 
the  possession  of  a  delusive  Jubilee  horse-trough, 
wearing,  a   way  off,  with   its  unvarnished  oak  and 

shingled  peaked  roof, 
and  inscription  of 
Gothic  character,  the 
appearance  of  some 
mediseval  lychgate 
strayed  upon  the  road. 
But  Patcham  has, 
in  a  meadow  beside 
its  church,  one  of 
those  ancient  dovecots 
seen  now  and  again 
in  the  land ;  buttressed  structures  of  an  astonish- 
ing solidity,  bearing  in  mind  their  use.  This  is 
a  picturesque,  half-ruinated  example,  built,  in  a 
district  where  building  stone  is  not  found,  of 
plenteous  Sussex  flints,  deep-embedded  in  mortar 
and  diversified  by  occasional  bands  of  red  brick. 
Close  by  is  the  church,  swept  and  garnished  and 
encaustic-tiled,  and  containing  on  the  tympanum 
above  the  chancel  arch  the  remains  of  a  mediseval 
fresco,  discovered  at  a  restoration,  deep  beneath 
layers  of  Puritan-churchwarden  whitewash. 


J.^^^^ 


/ 


OLD   DOVECOT,   PATCHAM. 


*^J  / 


^^.v 


•S2  V'' 


-t  J,  ■    ©  *"'9 


t'      r      / 


..  .: '  ■ ' 


l''^}<>^- 


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i£-ty     fir 


SI 


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f'U   ■ 


FIFTH  DAY.  247 

And  now  for  a  talc  of  smuggling  times.  In  the 
churchyard  at  Patcham,  to  the  north  of  the  church, 
is  a  tombstone  with  almost  illegible  inscription,  to 
this  effect : — 


"Sacred  to  the  memory  of  Daniel  Scales, 

who  was  unfortunately  shot  on  Thursday  evening, 

^November  ytli,   1796. 

"  Alas  !  swift  flew  the  fatal  lead, 
Which  pierced  through  the  young  man's  head. 
He  instant  fell,  resigned  his  breath, 
And.  closed  his  languid  e3^es  in  death. 
All  you  Avho  do  this  stone  draAV  near, 
Oh  !  pray  let  fall  the  pitying  tear. 
From  this  sad  instance  may  we  all 
Prepare  to  meet  Jehovah's  call." 

Poor  fellow  !  Now  this  young  man  was  a  desperate 
smuggler,  one  of  a  daring  gang  which  had  long 
carried  on  its  risky  business  practically  unmolested 
on  these  downs.  On  the  night  when  he  was 
"  unfortunately  shot,"  he  was,  with  many  others, 
coming  from  Brighton,  the  gang  of  them  laden 
heavily  'svith  smuggled  goods,  when  they  fell  in 
with  a  number  of  soldiers  and  excise  officers  near 
this  place.  The  smugglers  fled,  leaving  their  casks 
of  liquor  to  take  care  of  themselves,  careful  only 
to  make  good  their  own  escape,  saving  only  Daniel 
Scales,  who,  met  by  a  "  riding  officer,"  as  mounted 
excisemen  were  termed,  was  called  upon  by  him 
to  surrender  himself  and  his  booty,  which  he 
refused  to  do.  The  officer,  who  himself  had  been 
in  early   days    engaged   in   many   smuggling    trans- 


248  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

actions,  knew  that  Daniel  was  "  too  good  a  man 
for  him,  for  they  had  tried  it  out  before ; "  so  he 
shot  him  through  the  head.     Alas  !  poor  Daniel. 

I  think  that  is  the  most  romantic  incident  in  the 
history  of  Patcham,  a  little  village  that  lines  the 
road  for  a  space  by  the  forty-eighth  milestone,  and 
thereafter  clambers  up  the  foot-hills  of  the  Downs. 
Patcham  is  not  unbeautiful,  especially  as  you  view 
it  looking  southward  down  the  road,  beside  barren- 
looking  fields,  in  which  flints  stand  in  the  same 
proportion  to  soil  as  do  quibbles  to  truths  in  the 
speeches  of  your  vote-hunting  politician.  Opposite 
these  ungenerous  fields,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
highway,  runs  the  railroad,  deep  in  chalk  cuttings, 
and  between  goes  the  high-road,  enveloped  in  clouds 
of  chalk-dust,  and  further  along  is  the  pinched-in, 
bleached-looking  street  of  Patcham.  Beyond  this  is 
the  stretch  of  road  and  gritty  pathways  leading  to 
the  welcome  shade  of  Withdean  trees,  and  in  another 
mile,  diversified  now  with  many  villas,  and  dusty 
and  gritty  beyond  mere  words,  is  Preston. 

To  attempt  to  draw  here  a  character  sketch  of 
Preston  would  be  to  attempt  the  impossible,  for 
now-a-days  Preston  is  so  assimilated  to  Brighton  as 
to  have  few  independent  features  of  its  own  beyond 
the  Park,  which,  indeed,  belongs  also  to  the  borough, 
and  is  the  heritage  of  Brightonians  and  Preston  folk 
alike — if,  again,  you  can  class  your  Brighton  and 
Preston  residents  under  two  heads. 

Preston  Church,  though  patched  and  pieced  and 
altered,  remains  practically  the  little  Early  English 
church  it  ever  has  been.     It  contains  little  of  inte- 


FIFTH  DAY.  249 

rest  beyond  the  Shirley  tomb  and  the  frescoes  upon 
the  chancel  arch,  one  representing  the  murder  of 
Thomas  it  Beckett,  while  in  the  other  the  Virgin 
Mary  is,  together  with  an  angel,  contending  with 
the  Devil  for  the  possession  of  a  departed  soul. 
The  angel,  like  some  celestial  grocer,  appears  to 
be  weighing  the  soul  in  a  balance,  while  the  fiend, 
sitting  in  one  scale,  makes  the  unfortunate  soul  in 
the  other  "  kick  the  beam."  That  Devil  is  a  weighty 
person  in  the  matter  of  avoirdupois. 

When  it  is  said  that  Preston  Church  is  also  the 
burial-place  of  the  fiery,  disputatious,  seventeenth- 
century  Cheynell,  the  claims  of  the  building  to  notice 
are  done. 

Preston  turnpike  gate,  erected  about  1807,  was 
removed  in  May  1854  to  a  point  a  hundred  yards 
north  of  Withdean,  as  the  result  of  an  agitation 
started  in  1853,  when  the  Highway  Trustees  were 
applying  to  Parliament  for  another  term  of  years. 
It  and  its  hateful  legend,  "NO  TRUST,"  painted 
large  for  all  the  world  to  see,  were  a  nuisance  and 
a  gratuitous  satire  upon  human  nature  ;  no  one 
regretted  them  when  their  time  came. 

Passing  the  modernised  coaching  inn,  the  "  Crown 
and  Anchor,"  the  tall  elms  beside  the  park  railings 
come  in  view,  and,  obtruding  upon  the  roadway, 
break  happily  the  ever-growing  streets  ;  but  they 
will  have,  are  having,  their  day,  which  cannot  last 
long,  and  then  the  Park  will  be  seen  with  its  hem  of 
houses  complete. 

Presently  Ave  are  upon  the  pavements  and  the 
great  span  of  the  lofty  railway  viaduct  confirms  our 


'2 so  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

entry  of  the  town.  A  great  wall  of  roofs  and  houses, 
lines  npon  lines  of  streets,  rows  and  rows  of  never- 
ending  terraces  and  squares  and  crescents,  rise  up 
before  the  eye,  framed  in  by  that  soaring  arch,  and 
it  seems  as  if  London,  a  brighter,  cleaner  London, 
certainly,  had  appeared. 

And  so  we  came  at  length  into  the  centre,  the 
very  heart  of  this  Brighton,  the  Old  Steyne,  the 
rendezvous  of  fashion  in  the  days  of  the  Regency 
and  George  IV.'s  reign,  filled  with  reminiscences  of 
Perdita  Robinson  and  Mrs.  Fitzgerald,  and  the  many 
who  flourished  so  bravely  for  awhile  in  the  favour  of 
Prince  Florizel. 

For  all  its  history,  the  place  wears  a  passe,  decayed 
appearance,  because  those  days  of  its  brilliancy  are 
past,  and  are  historic  now.  The  houses,  stuccoed, 
with  those  intolerable  bay  windows  so  characteristic 
of  the  time  and  place,  are  not  old  enough  to  be 
interesting,  nor  sufficiently  new  for  smartness'  sake, 
and  so  fail  of  satisfying  on  any  count.  Mrs.  Fitz- 
gerald's house.  No.  55  Old  Steyne,  is  now  the  chosen 
home  of  the  Brighton  Young  Men's  Christian  Asso- 
ciation. Time  brings,  most  certainly,  many  strange 
revenges ! 

The  Pavilion  is  still  here,  with  its  grounds  and 
trees — the  few  trees  the  town  can  boast.  Treeless 
Brighton  has  been  the  derision  alike  of  Doctor 
Johnson  and  Tom  Hood,  to  name  no  others.  John- 
son, who  visited  Brighton  in  1770  in  the  company 
of  the  Thrales  and  Fanny  Burney,  declared  the 
neighbourhood  to  be  so  desolate  that  "  if  one  had 
a  mind  to  hang  one's  self  for  desperation  at  being 


'>0'f'ie^ 


-^^^ 


:>/ 


VJi^ 


FIFTH  DAY. 


25^ 


obliged  to  live  there,  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  a 
tree  on  which  to  fasten  a  rope." 

Hood,  on  the  other  hand,  is  jocular  in  an  airier 
and  lighter-hearted  fashion.  His  punning  humour 
(a  kind  of  wdtticism  which  Johnson  hated  with  the 
hatred  of  a  man  who  delved  deep  after  Greek  and 
Latin  roots)  is  to  Johnson's  as  the  footfall  of  a  cat 
to  the  earth-shaking  tread  of  the  elephant.  His, 
too,  is  a  manner  of  gibe  that  is  susceptible  of  being 
construed  into  praise  by  the  townsfolk.  "  Of  all  the 
trees,"  says  he,  "  I  ever  saw,  none  could  be  mentioned 
in  the  same  breath  with  the  magnificent  beach  at 
Brighton." 

But  though  these  trees  of  the  Pavilion  give  a 
grateful  shelter  from  the  glare  of  the  sun  and  the 
roughness  of  the  wind,  they  hide  little  of  the  tawdri- 
ness  of  that  architectural  enormity.  The  gilding 
has  faded,  the  tinsel  become  tarnished,  and  the 
whole  pile  of  cupolas  and  minarets  is  reduced  to 
one  even  tint,  that  is  not  white  nor  grey,  nor  any 
distinctive  shade  of  any  colour.  How  the  prepos- 
terous building  could  ever  have  been  admired  (as  it 
undoubtedly  w^as  at  one  time)  surpasses  belief.  Its 
cost,  one  shrewdly  suspects — it  is  supposed  to  have 
cost  over  ^1,000,000 — was  what  appealed  to  the 
imagination. 

That  reptile  Croker,  the  creature  of  that  Lord 
Hertford  whom  one  recognises  as  the  "  Marquis  of 
vSteyne  "  in  "  Vanity  Fair,"  admired  it,  as  assuredly 
did  not  rough-and-ready  Cobbett,  who  opines,  "A 
good  idea  of  the  building  may  be  formed  by  placing 
the  pointed  half  of  a  large  turnip  upon  the  middle 


252  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

of  a  board,  with  four  smaller  ones  at  the  {sic) 
corner." 

That  is  not  a  bad  comparison  of  this  monument  of 
extravagance  and  bad  taste.  Commenced  in  1784, 
and,  after  numerous  alterations,  pullings-down,  and 
rebuildings,  finally  completed  in  1S18,  it  set  the 
seal  of  a  certain  permanence  upon  the  royal  favours 
extended  to  the  town,  whose  population  rose  from 
3600  in  the  year  of  its  completion  to  the  remarkable 
total  of  24,429,  shown  in  the  census  of  1821,^  the 
last  of  George  the  Fourth's  reign. 

One  of  the  best  stories  connected  with  this 
sorry  building  is  that  told  so  well  in  the  "Four 
Georges : " — 

And  now  I  have  one  more  story  of  the  baccha- 
nalian sort,  in  which  Clarence  of  York  and  the 
very  highest  personage  in  the  realm,  the  great  Prince 
Regent,  all  play  parts. 

*'  The  feast  took  place  at  the  Pavilion  at  Brighton, 
and  was  described  to  me  by  a  gentleman  who  was 
present  at  the  scene.  In  Gilray's  caricatures,  and 
amongst  Fox's  jolly  associates,  there  figures  a  great 
nobleman,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  called  Jockey  of 
Norfolk  in  his  time,  and  celebrated  for  his  table 
exploits.  He  had  quarrelled  with  the  Prince,  like 
the  rest  of  the  Whigs ;  but  a  sort  of  reconciliation 

^  Population  of  Brighton,  from  tlie  earliest  authenticated  lists,  to  the 
present  time  : — 


1761 

2,000 

1821 

•  24,429 

1861 

.  77,693-88,3611 

1786 

3,600 

1831 

.  40,634 

1871 

.  90,01 1-103,760! 

1794 

5,669 

1841 

.  46,661 

1881 

.  99,049-128,3821 

I80I 

7,339 

1851 

•  65,583 

1891 

.  102,699-136,4191 

18II 

12,012 

1  Parliamentary  borough,  including  Hove  and  Preston. 


FIFTH  DA  Y. 


253 


had  taken  place,  and  now,  being  a  very  old  man, 
the  Prince  invited  him  to  dine  and  sleep  at  the 
Pavilion,  and  the  old  Duke  drove  over  from  his 
Castle  of  Arundel  with  his  famous  equipage  of  grey 
horses,  still  remembered  in  Sussex. 

"The  Prince  of  Wales  had  concocted  with  his 
royal  brothers  a  notable  scheme  for  making  the  old 
man  drunk.  Every  person  at  table  was  enjoined  to 
drink  wine  with  the  Duke — a  challenge  which  the 
old  toper  did  not  refuse.  He  soon  began  to  see  that 
there  was  a  conspiracy  against  him ;  he  drank  glass 
for  glass  :  he  overthrew  many  of  the  brave.  At  last 
the  first  gentleman  of  Europe  proposed  bumpers  of 
brandy.  One  of  the  royal  brothers  filled  a  great 
glass  for  the  Duke.  He  stood  up  and  tossed  ofi"  the 
drink.  '  Now,'  says  he,  '  I  will  have  my  carriage 
and  go  home.' 

"The  Prince  urged  upon  him  his  previous  pro- 
mise to  sleep  under  the  roof  where  he  had  been 
so  generously  entertained.  '  No,'  he  said  ;  *  he  had 
had  enough  of  such  hospitality.  A  trap  had  been 
set  for  him ;  he  would  leave  the  place  at  once,  and 
never  enter  its  doors  more.' 

"  The  carriage  was  called,  and  came ;  but,  in  the 
half-hour's  interval,  the  liquor  had  proved  too  potent 
for  the  old  man  ;  his  host's  generous  purpose  was 
answered,  and  the  Duke's  old  grey  head  lay  stupefied 
on  the  table.  Nevertheless,  when  his  post-chaise 
was  announced,  he  staggered  to  it  as  well  as  he 
could,  and  stumbling  in,  bade  the  postillions  drive 
to  Arundel. 

"They  drove  him   for   half  an   hour  round   and 


254  'rHE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

round  the  Pavilion  lawn  ;  the  poor  old  man  fancied 
he  was  going  home. 

"  When  he  aw^oke  that  morning,  he  w^as  in  a  bed 
at  the  Prince's  hideous  house  at  Brighton.  You 
may  see  the  place  now  for  sixpence ;  they  have 
fiddlers  there  every  day,  and  sometimes  buffoons 
and  mountebanks  hire  the  Riding-House  and  do 
their  tricks  and  tumbling  there.  The  trees  are  still 
there,  and  the  gravel  walks  round  which  the  poor 
old  sinner  was  trotted." 

But  indeed  practical  joking  was  carried  to  the 
extreme — was  elevated  to  the  status  of  a  fine  art 
at  Brighton  by  the  Prince  and  his  merry  men.  A 
characteristic  story  of  him  is  that  told  of  a  drive 
to  Brighton  races,  when  he  \vas  accompanied  in  his 
great  yellow  barouche  by  Townsend,  the  Bow  Street 
runner,  who  was  present  to  protect  the  Prince  from 
insult  or  robbery  at  the  hands  of  the  multitude.  *  It 
was  a  position,'  says  my  authority,  '  which  gave  His 
Royal  Highness  an  opportunity  to  practise  upon  his 
guardian  a  somewhat  unpleasant  joke.  Turning 
suddenly  to  Townsend,  just  at  the  termination  of 
a  race,  he  exclaimed,  '  By  Jove,  Townsend,  I've  been 
robbed  ;  I  had  with  me  some  damson  tarts,  but 
they  are  now  gone.'  '  Gone ! '  said  Townsend, 
rising;  'impossible!'  'Yes,'  rejoined  the  Prince, 
'  and  you  are  the  purloiner,'  at  the  same  time  taking 
from  the  seat  whereon  the  officer  had  been  sitting 
the  crushed  crust  of  the  asserted  missing  tarts,  and 
adding,  '  This  is  a  sad  blot  upon  your  reputation  as 
a  vigilant  officer.'  '  Rather  say,  your  Royal  Highness, 
a  sad  stain  upon  my  escutcheon,'  added  Townsend, 


FIFTH  DA  Y. 


255 


raising  the  gilt-buttoned  tails  of  his  blue  coat  and 
exhibiting  the  fruit-stained  scat  of  his  nankeen  in- 
expressibles." 

But  it  was  not  this  practical -joking  Prince  who 
first  discovered  Brighton.  It  would  never  have 
attained  its  great  vogue  without  him,  but  it  would 
have  been  the  health  resort  of  a  certain  circle  of 
fashion — an  inferior  Bath,  in  fact.  To  Dr.  Richard 
Russell,  who  visited  the  little  village  of  Brighthelm- 
stone  in  1750,  belongs  the  credit  of  discovering  the 
place  to  an  ailing  fashionable  world.  He  died  in 
1759,  long  ere  the  sun  of  royal  splendour  first  rose 
upon  the  fishing-village ;  but  even  before  the  Prince 
of  Wales  first  visited  Brighthelmstone  in  1782,  it 
had  attained  a  certain  popularity,  as  the  "  Bright- 
helmstone Guide"  of  July  1777  attests  in  these 
halting  verses  : — 

"  This  town  or  village  of  renown, 
Like  London  Bridge,  half  broken  down, 
Few  years  ago  was  worse  than  Wapping, 
]^ot  fit  for  a  human  soul  to  stop  in ; 
But  now,  like  to  a  worn-out  shoe. 
By  patching  well,  the  place  will  do. 
Yoii'd  wonder  much,  I'm  sure  to  see 
How  it's  Lecramm'd  with  (piality." 

And  so  on. 

Brighthelmstone,  indeed,  has  had  more  Guides 
written  upon  it  than  even  Bath  has  had,  and  very 
curious  some  of  them  are  become  in  these  days. 
They  range  from  lively  to  severe,  from  grave  to  gay, 
from  the  serious  screeds  of  Russell  and  Dr.  Relhan, 
his  successor,   to   the  light   and   airy,  and   not  too 


256  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

admirable  puffs  of  to-day.  But  however  these 
guides  may  vary,  they  all  agree  in  harking  back 
to  that  shadowy  Brighthelm  who  is  supposed  to 
have  given  his  peculiar  name  to  the  ancient  fisher- 
village  here  established  time  out  of  mind.  In  the 
days  when  "  County  Histories  "  were  first  let  loose, 
in  folio  volumes,  upon  an  unoffending  land,  his- 
torians, archaeologists,  and  other  interested  parties 
seemed  at  a  loss  for  the  derivation  of  the  place- 
name,  and,  rather  than  confess  themselves  ignorant 
of  its  meaning,  they  conspired  together  to  invent 
a  Saxon  archbishop,  who,  dying  in  the  odour  of 
sanctity  and  the  ninth  century,  bequeathed  his  appel- 
lation to  what  is  now  known,  in  a  contracted  form, 
as  Brighton. 

But  the  man  is  not  known  who  has  unassailable 
proofs  to  show  of  this  Brighthelm's  having  so  hon- 
oured the  fisher-folk's  hovels  with  his  name. 

Thackeray,  greatly  daring,  considering  that  the 
Fourth  George  is  the  real  patron — saint,  we  can 
hardly  say;  let  us  make  it — king,  of  the  town,  elected 
to  deliver  his  lectures  upon  the  "Four  Georges"  at 
Brighton,  among  other  places,  and  to  that  end  made, 
with  monumental  assurance,  a  personal  application 
at  the  Town-Hall  for  the  hire  of  the  banqueting- 
room  in  the  Royal  Pavilion. 

But  one  of  the  Aldermen,  who  chanced  to  be 
present,  suggested,  with  extra-aldermanic  wit,  that 
the  Town-Hall  would  be  equally  suitable,  intimat- 
ing at  the  same  time  that  it  was  not  considered 
as  strictly  etiquette  to  "  abuse  a  man  in  his  own 
house."     The  witty  Alderman's  suggestion,  we  are 


FIFTH  DA  Y.  257 

told,  was  acted  upon,  and  the  Town  Hall  engaged 
forthwith. 

It  indeed  argued  considerable  courage  on  the 
lecturer's  part  to  declaim  against  George  IV. 
anywhere  in  that  town  which  His  Majesty  had,  by 
his  example,  conjured  up  from  almost  nothingness. 
It  does  not  seem  that  Thackeray  was,  after  all,  ill- 
received  at  Brighton  ;  whence  thoughts  arise  as  to 
the  ingratitude  and  fleeting  memories  of  them  that 
were,  either  in  the  first  or  second  generation,  advan- 
taged by  the  royal  preference  for  this  bleak  stretch 
of  shore  beneath  the  bare  South  Downs,  open  to 
every  wind  that  blows.  Surely  gratitude  is  well 
described  as  a  "lively  sense  of  favours  to  come,"  and 
what  more  was  there  to  expect  from  a  dead  hand  ? 

Did  not  Her  Majesty,  unmindful  of  Brighton's 
charms,  sell  the  Royal  Pavilion  to  the  (then)  Com- 
missioners of  Brighton  in  1850  for  the  goodly  sum 
of  ^53,000,  and  thereafter  deny  the  place  her  pre- 
sence ? 

Has  royalty  in  the  present  generation  advantaged 
Brighton  anything  whatever?  I  trow  not.  There- 
fore, perhaps,  the  townsfolk  resented  nothing  of  all 
the  lecturer's  gall  and  wormwood,  doubtless  secure 
in  the  sense  of  favours  acknowledged  by  the  tardy 
setting  up  of  a  brazen  image  to  the  memory  of  him 
who  is  really  the  genius  of  the  place,  irice  Bright- 
helm  superannuated.^ 

1  Tliis  statue  was  erected  in  October  1828.  The  idea  of  setting  up  a 
memorial  to  him  who  had  so  plenished  their  pockets  originated  with  a 
number  of  Brigliton  tradesmen,  "  who,"  says  Erredge,  in  his  valuable 
"  History  of  Brighthelinstone,"  "  were  accustomed  to  assemble  niglitly 

R 


258  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

For  they  have  set  up  on  the  Old  Steyne  an  image 
of  the  King,  by  Chantrey ;  and  there  he  stands,  on 
his  granite  pedestal,  smooth-faced  and  smirking,  as 
unlike  one's  conception  of  that  easy-going,  roystering 
blade  as  may  well  be.  It  seems  as  incongruous  as 
though  the  Y.M.C.A.  were  to  call  him  brother,  to 
perpetuate  this  characterless  travesty.  The  salt  sea- 
breeze  blows  upon  that  brazen  statue  facing  toward 
the  King's  Road,  so  that  there  has  become  deposited 
on  that  characterless  countenance  a  partial  green 
coating  of  oxide.  They  let  it  remain ;  what  right, 
then,  should  they  have  to  resent  a  stranger's  depre- 
ciatory remarks  upon  the  original  of  that  neglected 
image  ? 

This  space,  in  whose  midst  rises  the  counterfeit 
presentment  of  His  Majesty,  is  sacred  to  Corinthian 
days  and  memories  of  the  Regency.  Bay-windowed 
frontages,  red  -  bricked  paves.  Pavilion  pinnacles, 
what  frolics  have  you  not  witnessed  in  the  long-past 
days  before  Mrs.  Grundy  had  become  the  infinitely 
more  tyrannical  British  Matron  ;  when  men  tra- 
velled, not  by  steam,  but  drawn  by  horses,  and  when 
the  short-waisted  frock,  the  curly  wig,  and  knee- 
breeches  were  still  the  vogue. 

Roysterers  all  are  gone.  The  Prince  and  King, 
the  Barrymores — Hellgate,  Newgate,  and  Cripple- 
gate — brothers  three  ;  Mrs.  Fitzgerald,  "  the  only 
woman  whom  George  the  Fourth  ever  really  loved;" 
vSir  John  Lade,  the  reckless,  the  frolicsome,  who  is 

at  the  '  King's  Arms,'  George  Street ;  but  a  subscription  which  remained 
open  for  more  than  eight  years  and  a  half  did  not  provide  the  siim — 
X3000 — agreed  to  be  paid  Chantrey  for  his  artistic  skill." 


FIFTH  DA  y. 


259 


in  so  far  historic  that  he  was  the  first  man  who 
(with  the  courage  and  "  ses  triplex  "  of  the  Iloratian 
mariner  who  first  put  off  to  sea)  publicly  wore  the 
trouser  :  these,  with  innumerable  others,  are  long 
since  silent,  and  their  places  know  them  no  more. 
No  more  are  they  heard  who,  with  unseemly  revelry, 
disturbed  the  mid- 
night moon,  and  upset 
the  decrepit  watch- 
man in  his  box,  the  1^  ^^».  j^^k^/ 
while  his  companion 
swung  his  creaking 
rattle  for  timely  suc- 
cour. 

Those  days  are  done, 
and  we  live  in  a  time 
which,  if  more  to  be 
desired  from  com- 
fort's point  of  view,  is 
certainly  less  pictur- 
esque and  more  gravely  decorous  than  the  closing 
years  of  the  last  and  the  opening  decade  of  the  pre- 
sent centur}\ 

And  now  we  had  reached  the  end  of  our  journey, 
but  there  were  two  places  in  this  town  which  we 
wished  to  see  ere  we  departed  hence.  They  are  both 
of  them  connected  with  the  one  historical  escapade 
of  any  antiquity  that  belongs  to  the  town,  and  which, 
safely  carried  through,  ensured  the  death  of  the  Com- 
monwealth, the  ultimate  restoration  of  the  monarchy, 
and  the  return  of  Charles  the  Second. 

The  one   is   in  West   Street,  at  the   sign  of  the 


WATCHMAN. 


26o 


THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 


King's  Head.  In  1651,  after  the  disastrous  result 
of  Worcester  fight,  Charles  was  driven  to  wander, 
a  fugitive,  through  the  land,  seeking  the  coast 
from  which  he  could  embark  and  reach  safety  until 
such  time  as  he  could  come  in  power  and  claim  his 
own  again. 

Hunted  by  relentless  Roundheads,  and  sheltered 


DR.  BICHARD  RUSSELL  (froiji  a  picture  by  Zoffany). 

on  his  way  by  only  a  few  faithful  adherents,  he  at 
length  reached  the  village  of  Brighthelmstone  with 
his  small  party,  and  lodged  at  the  inn,  which  was 
then  the  "  George." 

That  evening,  after  much  negotiation.  Colonel 
Gunter,  the  King's  companion,  arranged  with 
Nicholas  Tettersell,  the  master  of  a   small  trading 


FIFTH  DAY.  261 

vessel,  to  convey  the  King  across  the  Channel  to 
Fecamp,  on  the  coast  of  France,  to  sail  in  the  early- 
hours  of  the  following  morning,  October  14th.  How 
they  sailed,  and  the  account  of  their  joiirneyings, 
shall  be  found  fully  set  forth  in  the  "  Narrative " 
of  Colonel  Gunter  by  he  who  lists  to  hear  a  romantic 
episode  in  English  history. 

The  inn  is  still  standing,  a  small  building  of 
brick,  with  low-ceiled  parlour  and  upstairs  rooms, 
upon  M'hich  the  loyal  may  look  with  reverence, 
but  which,  were  their  history  unknown,  would  be 
accounted  mean. 

The  sign  was  altered  upon  the  King's  triumphant 
return  to  that  name  it  bears  to-day,  but  the  picture 
of  the  miscalled  "Merry"  Monarch  has  long  since 
vanished.  Fanny  Burney,  visiting  Brighton  in  the 
company  of  the  Thrales,  who  resided  opposite,  was 
familiar  with  this  sign,  for  she  says  of  the  place, 
"  I  fail  not  to  look  at  it  with  loyal  satisfaction,  and 
his  black-wigged  Majesty  has  from  the  time  of  his 
restoration  been  its  sign."  ^ 

Then  from  West  Street  we  found  our  way  to  the 
old  parish  church  of  Brighton,  St.  jSicholas,  stand- 
ing upon  the  topmost  eyrie  of  the  borough,  and 
overlooking  from  its  crowded  graveyard  the  heaped 
and  jostling  roofs  below. 

This  is  probably  the  place  referred  to  by  a  viva- 

^  Alas  !  some  scientific  liistorian  has  demolislied  the  legend  of  the 
King's  Head.  This  ruthless  destroyer  of  a  pictiiresqiie  falsehood  has 
proved  that  there  was  no  "  George  "  until  a  very  much  later  date  than 
that  of  Charles's  escape,  and  also  that  in  later  times  the  inn  of  that 
name  was  in  Middle  Street,  on  the  site  of  tlic  present  No.  44.  Sic 
transit  gloria,  dbc. 


262  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

cious  Frenchman,  who,  just  over  a  hundred  years 
ago,  summed  up  "  Brigtemstone  "  as  "  a  miserable 
village,  commanded  by  a  cemetery  and  surrounded 
by  barren  mountains."  That  this  populous  burying- 
place  should  be  a  place  of  pilgrimage  for  all  them 
that  are  historically  inclined  may  well  be  granted, 
but  I  do  not  know  that  visitors  to  it  are  many  of  all 
the  crowds  that  come  here  to  court  the  sea. 

But  from  here  you  can,  with  some  trouble,  catch 
just  a  glimpse  of  the  watery  horizon  through  the 
grey  haze  that  rises  from  countless  chimney-pots, 
and  never  a  breeze  but  blows  laden  with  the  scent 
of  soot  and  smoke.  Yet,  for  all  the  changed  fortune 
that  changeful  Time  has  brought  this  hoary  and 
grimy  place,  he  has  not  yet  deprived  it  of  interesting 
mementoes.  You  may,  with  patience,  discover  the 
tombstone  of  Phoebe  Hassall,  a  centenarian  of  pith 
and  valour,  who,  in  her  youthful  days,  in  male 
attire,  joined  His  Majesty  King  George  the  Second's 
army,  and  warred  with  her  regiment  in  many  lands ; 
and  all  around  are  the  resting-places  of  many 
celebrities,  who,  denied  a  wider  fame,  have  yet 
their  place  in  local  annals  ;  but  prominent  in  place 
and  in  fame  is  the  tomb  of  that  Captain  Tettersell 
who  (it  must  be  owned,  for  a  consideration)  sailed 
away  that  October  morn,  two  hundred  and  forty 
years  ago,  across  the  Channel,  carrying  with  him 
the  hope  of  the  clouded  Royalists  aboard  his  grimy 
craft. 

His  altar-tomb  stands  without  the  southern  door- 
way of  the  church,  and  reads  curiously  to  modern 
ears.     That  not  one  of  all  the  many  who  have  had 


ST.    NICHOLAS— THE  OI.l)   PARISH   CHfUCH   OK    HRIGHTHlir.MSTONE. 


FIFPH  DAY.  263 

occasion  to  print  it  has  transcribed  the  quaintness 

of  that   epitaph   aright   seems   a  strange  thing,  but 

so  it  is  : — 

"  P.M.S. 

"  Captain  Nicholas  Tettersell,  thi-oiigli  Avhose  Prudenc*'  ualf)ur 
an  Loyalty  Charles  the  second  King  of  England  &  after  he  had 
escaped  the  sword  of  his  merciless  rebeUs  and  his  fforses  received 
a  fatall  ouerthrowe  at  Worcester  Sepf*  3''*  165 1,  Avas  ffaithfully 
preserued  &  conueyed  into  fFrance.  Departed  this  life  the  26"^ 
day  of  luly  1674. 

*'  Within  this  monument  doth  lye, 
Approued  Ffaith,  hono''  and  Loyalty. 
In  this  Cold  Clay  he  hath  now  tane  up  liis  statio", 
At  once  preserued  y^  Church,  the  Crowne  and  nation. 
Wlien  Charles  y^  Create  was  nothing  but  a  breat" 
This  ualiant  soule  stept  betweene  him  &  death. 
Usurpers  threats  nor  tyrant  rebells  frowne 
Could  not  afrright  his  duty  to  the  CroAvne  ; 
Which  glorious  act  of  his  for  Church  &  state, 
Eight  princes  in  one  day  did  Gratulate 
Professing  aU  to  him  in  debt  to  bee 
As  all  the  world  are  to  his  memory 
Since  Earth  Could  not  Reward  his  worth  have  give", 
Hee  now  receiues  it  from  the  King  of  heauen." 

And  so,  Tettersell,  farewell ! 

We  left  the  churchyard  and  its  memories  and 
descended  the  steep  street  to  Brighton  of  to-day  ;  to 
where,  ye  gods !  stands  the  Jubilee  Clock  Tower  at 
the  parting  of  the  ways.  And  so  down  North  Street 
to  the  Steyne  once  more.  Hasting  from  the  ruddy 
brick  pavements  of  the  Old  Steyne,  past  the  entrance 
to  the  Aquarium,  we  presently  happened,  rather  than 
walked,  upon  that  beach  of  wliich  Wigstead  speaks 


264  THE  BRIGHTON  ROAD. 

in  his  "  Excursion,"  talking  with  amusing  gusto  of 
the  "  number  of  beautiful  women  who  every  morning 
court  the  embraces  of  the  Watery  God." 

Alas  !  when  we  reached  the  beach  there  were  no 
beautiful  women  courting  embraces.  Perhaps  we 
were  too  late  ;  perhaps  their  absence  was  to  be 
accounted  for  in  the  fact  of  the  Watery  God  being 
at  low  ebb.  Perhaps  the  bye-laws  of  the  corporation 
of  Brighton  ...,?! 

This  was  Saturday ;  not  yet,  though,  had  the 
smart  London  '*  Saturday  to  Monday  "  horde  arrived 
upon  the  scene,  and  the  King's  Road  was  compara- 
tively clear.  Neither  was  this  the  season  when  the 
cheap  tripper  disports  himself  in  his  thousands  upon 
the  beach,  and  the  Cockney  treats  his  inamorata  to 
a  fleeting  five  hours  at  the  seaside.  No ;  Brighton 
was,  for  the  time,  quiet. 

There  yet  remained  to  us  two  hours  ere  the  fashion- 
able invasion  began,  so  we  sheltered  on  the  painful 
pebbles  under  the  welcome  lee  of  a  groyne,  and 
gazed  awhile  across  this  sailless  sea  and  upon  the 

doomed  Chain  Pier.    C fingered  his  stubby  beard 

reflectively  ;  the  writer  regarded  with  something  akin 
to  shame  his  travel-stained  attire.  A  passing  fair 
one  looked  curiously  at  us  two  pilgrims,  and  went 
her  way  smiling. 


Then  our  eyes  met  with  a  mute  intelligence.  We 
rose  simultaneously  and  made  to  depart.  Brighton 
is  no  place  for  the  travel-worn.  We  would  away  to 
some  rural  resting-place,  less  public  and  with  a  wider 


'^y^-- 


-^ 


3    ^ 


FIFTH  DAY. 


265 


latitude  in  the  matter  of  dress  than  this,  whose  Bond 
Street  air  shamed  our  knapsacks  and  dusty  boots. 

"  Where  shall  it  be  ? "  asked  the  other  man. 
''  Rottingdean."  "  Very  well,  quartermaster,  make 
it  so  ;  "  and  we,  disregarding  Horace  Greeley's  advice 
to  the  "young  man,"  went  east. 


DAY   TRIPPEES. 


THE  ROAD  TO  BRIGHTOX. 


Miles 


Westminster  Bridge  (Surrey  side)  to- — 

St.  Mark's  Church,  Kennington         .      '   .          .            i| 

Brixton  Church 

3 

Streatham 

5i 

Norbury 

6f 

Thornton  Heath 

8 

Croydon  (Whitgift's  Hospital) 

9l 

Purley  House  . 

.         iii 

Smitham  Bottom 

i3i 

Coulsdon  Railway  Station 

i4i 

Merstham 

17I 

Redhill  (:\Iarket  Hall)       . 

20^ 

Horley  (Chequers)   . 

24 

Povey  Cross     . 

25I 

Kimherham  Bridge  (cross  River  Mule) 

26 

Lowfield  Heath 

27 

266 


THE  ROAD   TO  BRIGHTON. 


267 


Crawley  . 

Pease-Pottage  Gate 

Hand  Cross 

Staplefield  Common 

Slough  Green 

AVhiteman's  Green 

Cuckfield 

Ansty  Cross     . 

Bridge  Farm  (cross  River 

8t.  John's  Common 

Friar's  Oak  Inn 

Stonepound 

Clayton  . 

Pyecombe 

Patcham 

Withdean 

Preston  . 

Brighton  (Aquariiun) 


Adur 


Miles. 
29 

34f 

sH 

37i 
37^ 


4oi 
4of 
42f 
43J 
44i 
4Si 


49f 
54 


r^> 


INDEX. 


AlNSWORTH,  Mr.  Harrison,  76,  135. 
Albourne,  2,  loi,  245. 
Ansty  Cross,  217. 

Banks,  Sir  Echvard,  40. 
Barrymores,  the,  6,  258. 
Bath  Hotel,  3. 
"  Boxiana,"  96. 
Bri<,Mithelni,  256. 
Brighton  Parcel  Mail,  58. 
Brighton  Kaihvay  Opened,  171. 
Brigliton  lioad  Records  Tabuhited, 

119. 
Brixton,  11. 

Burgess  Hill,  100,  125,  221. 
Burney,  Fanny,  24,  250,  261. 
Burton,  Dr.  John,  153. 

Gary's  "Itinerary,"  165. 
Charles  II.,  259. 
Charlwood,  60,  61. 
Chipstead,  40. 
Clayton,  2,  221,  245. 
Clayton  Hill,  19,  225. 
Clayton  Park,  223. 
Clayton  Tunnel,  225. 
Clayton  Tunnel  Accident,  228. 
Coaches — 

"Age,"  the,  21,  204,  206. 

"Beaufort,"  the,  21. 

"Bellerophon,"  the,  19. 

"  Comet,"  the,  73,  207. 

"Criterion,"  tlie,  169. 

"Defiance,"  the,  206. 

"Life  Preserver,"  the,  20. 

"  Old  Times,"  the,  73. 

"Quicksilver,"  the,  20,  169. 


Coaches  [contimted) — 

"Red  Rover,"  the,  170. 

"  Vivid,"  the,  20,  170. 

"Wonder,"  the,  169. 
Coaching  Accidents,  164,  169,  170. 
Coaching  Era,  155. 
Coaching  Notabilities — 

Angell,  B.  J.,  205,  211. 

Armytage,  Colonel,  205. 

Beaufort,  Duke  of,  205. 

Beckett,  Captain,  y^ii  207. 

Blyth,  Captain,  77,  206. 

Brackenbury,  Robert,  204. 

Bradford,  "Miller,"  19. 

Capps,  T.  W.,  204. 

Clark,  George,  204. 

Cooper,  AV.  H.,  211. 

Cotton,  Sir  St.  Vincent,  21,  204. 

Dickson,  Walter,  j;^. 

Dixon,  Major,  85. 

Fitzgerald,  Mr.,  205. 

Fownes,  Edwin,  207. 

Freeman,  Stewart,  206. 

Godden,  Walter,  75,  77,  87. 

Haworth,  Captain,  205-206. 

Hine,  Mr.,  20. 

Jerninghani,    Hon.    Fred.,    21, 
204. 

Lawrie,  Captain,  205. 

Londesborough,  Earl  of,  206. 

MacAdam,  Captain,  73. 

ISrCalmont,  Hngh,  207. 

Meek,  George,  206,  211. 

Pole,  E.  S.  Chandos,  205,  211. 

Pole-Gell,  Mr.,  206. 

Sandys,  Hon.  H.,  207. 

Selby,  James,  73,  S3. 


269 


270 


INDEX. 


Coacliing  Notabilities  {continued) — 

Stevenson,  Henry,  21,  204. 

Stiacey-Clitherow,Colonel,2o6. 

Tedder,  Alfred,  205,  206. 

Thorogood,  John,  206. 

Tliynne,  Lord  H.,  205. 

Titlany,  Mr.,  206. 

Ward,  Harry,  206. 

Wemyss,  Randolph,  207. 

Willis,  Mr.,  211. 

Wiltshire,  Lord,  207. 

Worcester,  Marquis  of ,  21,  169, 
204. 
Coaching  Records,  79,  169. 
Coaching  Revival,  205. 
Cobbett,  Richard,  64,  251. 
Copthorne  Common,  5,  96. 
Coulsdon,  40. 
County  Oak,  66. 
Coverts,  the,  125, 
Crawley,  2,  71,  76,  92. 
Crawley  Downs^  95,  loi,  104. 
Croydon,  2,  26,  28,  77,  99. 
Crystal  Palace,  28. 
Cuckfield,  2,  70,  76,  132. 
Cuckfield  Park,  127,  135. 
Cucktield  Place,  135. 
Cumberland,  Duke  of,  15. 
Cycling  Notabilities — 

Arnott,  W.  W\,  89. 

Blair,  J.,  89. 

Edge,  S.  F.,  90. 

Girling,  T.  W.,  89. 

Griffin,  A.  E.,  89. 

Holbein,  M.  A.,  89. 
.  Mayall,  John,  junr.,  87. 

Moorhouse,  E.  P.,  90. 

Morris,  G.  L.,  89. 

Scantlebury,  E.,  89. 

Scantlebury,  W.,  89. 

Schafer,  C.W.,  89. 

Shorland,  F.  AV.,  89. 

Shutc,  J.  F.,  89. 

Smith,  C,  A.,  90. 

Walker,  S.,  89. 

Willis,  E.  J.,  89. 

Wilson,  P.  C,  89. 

Wilson,  R.,  89. 


Cycling  Records,  87. 

De  Quincey,  216. 
Defoe,  242. 
Ditchling,  242. 
Ditchling  Reacon,  225. 
Dore,  Gustave,  4. 
Dorking,  2,  204. 
Drayton,  Michael,  68. 
Driving  Records,  117. 

Earlswood  Common,  51. 
East  Grinstead,  2,  97. 
Egan,  Pierce,  4,  12. 
Ewell,  2. 

Fitzgerald,  Mrs.,  250,  258. 
"  Four  Georges,"  the,  102. 
Friar's  Oak,  19,  22,  236,  244. 

Gatwick,  56,  58. 

"  George,"  the,  Brighton,  260. 

George  IIL,  14,  loi. 

George    I\".,   Prince    Regent    and 

King,  13,  14,  18,  22,  95,  100,  loi, 

116,  252. 
Godstone  Green,  2. 
Gossop's  Green,  71. 
Gunter,  Colonel,  260. 

Hand  Cros.s,  2,  19,  loi,  121. 
Hanger,  Major,  96,  ico. 
Hannay,  Patrick,  34,  91. 
Hassall,  Phojbe,  262. 
Hassock's  Gate,  223. 
Hatchett's,  3,  29,  89. 
Hay  ward's  Heath,  133. 
Hazlitt,  William,  3,  4. 
Hickstead,  2,  loi. 
Hog's  Hill,  120. 
Holy  Trinity,  Hospital  of,  29, 
Hood,  Tom,  250. 
Horley,  2,  56,  57,  70,  76. 
"  Horns,"  the,  Kennington,  99. 
Horsham,  2. 
Hurstpierpoint,  100. 

Ifield,  64,  66,  70. 


INDEX. 


271 


Ironworks  in  Sussex,  68. 

Jacob's  Post,  244. 
Johnson,  Dr.,  24,  250. 

KENNINGTON,   II. 

Kenningtou  Gate,  10. 

"  King's  Head,"  the,  Brighton,  260. 

Lade,  Sir  Jolui,  258. 
Lawrence,  Sir  Thomas,  14. 
Leitli  Hill,  51. 
Lemon,  Mark,  94. 
Lewes,  2. 

"Life  in  London,"  4. 
Lonsdale,  Earl  of,  104. 
Lowlield  Heath,  60. 

Maresfield,  2. 
Mersthani,  42,  50. 
Mockhridge,  2. 
Mole,  River,  43,  56,  61. 
Montagu,  Duke  of,  15. 

Nelson,  Admiral  Lord,  120. 
Newdigate,  60,  6t,. 
"  Nimrod,"  21. 
Norhury,  26,  28. 
North  Downs,  51. 

"Old  Ship,"   the,   Brighton,  74, 

77,  89. 
Old  Ste^'uc,  the,  16,  250,  263. 
Old-Time  Travelling,  Old  Writers 

on,  4,   17,   18,  152,  153,  171,   193, 

211,  214,  216,  242. 
"Old  Times"  Kecord  Drive,  79. 

Patch  AM,  19,  75,  loi,  245,  246. 
Pavilion,  the,  250. 
Pease-Pottage  Gate,  76,  120. 
Pedestrian  Records,  116. 
Pet  ridge  Wood,  55. 
Pollard,  James,  10. 
Povey  Cross,  61. 
Preston,  75,  242,  245,  24S. 
Prize-Pighting,  5,  95. 


Pugilistic  Notahilitics — 
Cribh,  Tom,  94. 
Fewterel,  100. 
Hickman,  "the  Gaslight  Man," 

99. 
Jack.son,    "  Gentleman,"    100, 

201. 
Martin,  "Master of  the  Rolls," 

5>  97.  99- 
Randall,    Jack,    "The    Non- 
pareil," 5,  97. 
Sayers,  Tom,  100. 
Purley,  37. 
Pyecombe,  2,  232,  245. 

"Real  Life  in  London,"  4. 
Redhill,  2,  46,  51. 
Reigate,  2,  18,  97,  104. 
Relhan,  Dr.,  255. 
Riddens  Farm,  221. 
Robbery,  Coach,  162. 
"Rookwood,"  76,  136. 
Routes  to  Brighton,  2, 
Rowlandson,  Thomas,  118,  151. 
Ruskin,  John,  26,  32. 
Russell,  Dr.  Richard,  255. 

St.  John's  Common,  76,  125,  221. 
St.  Leonard's  Forest,  121,  129. 
St.  Nicholas,  Brighton,  261. 
Salford,  53. 
Sayers  Common,  100. 
SheeiJ-Shearing  Songs,  233. 
Shrewsbury,  Earl  of,  104. 
Shrewsbury  -  Lonsdale      Driving 

Match,  104. 
Slaugham,  125. 
Siaughani  Place,  125. 
Slough  Cireen,  129,  130. 
Smitham  Bottom,  38,  77. 
South  Downs,  225,  231. 
Stage  Coaches,  16,  156. 
Stage  Wagons,  155. 
Staplefield  Common,  18,  124. 
Staplefield  Place,  124. 
Stonepound,  223. 
Streatham,  2,  22. 
Superstitions,  Sussex,  240. 


272 


INDEX. 


Sussex  Ironworks,  68. 
Sussex  Pccasant,  the,  237. 
Sussex  Roads,  127. 
Sutton,  2,  18,  201. 

Tettersell,  Captain,  260,  262. 
Thackeray,  14,  102,  256. 
Thornton  Heath,  26,  28. 
Thrales,  the,  24,  250,  261. 
Thrale  Park,  23. 
Tilgate  Forest  Row,  121. 
Tooke,  John  Home,  37. 
Trotting  Records,  118. 
Turnpike  Acts,  218. 
Turnpike  Gates,  223,  249. 


UCKFIELD,  2. 

"Viator,  Junr.,"  21,  164,  169,  171. 

Walpole,  Horace,  14,  15,  137,  152, 
Westminster  Bridge,  3,  10. 
White  Horse  Cellars,  the,  3,  4,  89. 
Whiteman's  Green,  129. 
Whitgift,  Archbishop,  29. 
Withdean,  248. 
Wivelsfiekl,  242. 
Wolstoubury  Hill,  225. 

Yarmouth,  Lord,  96. 


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ENGLISH  ECCENTRICS  AND  ECCENTRICITIES:  Stories  of  Wealth  and  Fashion, 
Delusions,  Impostures,  and  Fanatic  Missions,  Sporting  Scenes,  Eccentric  Artists, 
Theatrical  Folk,  Men  of  Letters,  &c.     With  48  Illustrations. 

TROLLOPE  (ANTHONY),  NOVELS  BY! 

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WHAT  SHE  CAME   THROUGH. 
CITOVENNE  JACQUELINE. 
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BEAUTY  AND  THE  BEAST. 

DISAPPEARED. 

THE   HUGUENOT  FAMILY. 


yiLLARL- A  DOUBLE  BOND.    By  Linda  Villari.    Fcap.  Svo,  picture 

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WARD  (HERBERT)rWORKS  BY. 

FIVE  YEARS  WITH   THE   CONGO  CANNIBALS.     With  92  Illustrations  by  the 

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26 


BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY 


LISTS  OF  BOOKS  CLASSIFIED  IN  SERIES. 

*  ,*  For  fuller  cataloguing,  see  alphabetical  arrangement,  pp.  1-25. 


THE  MAYFAIR  LIBRARY. 

A  Journey  Round  My  Koom.    By  Xavier 

DR   MaISTRE. 

Quips  and  Quiddities.    By  W.  D.  Adams. 
The  Agony  Column  of  "The  Times." 
Melancholy  Anatomised:  Abridsment  of 

"  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melanclioly." 
The  Speeches  of  Charles  Dickens. 
Literary  Frivolities,   Fancies,   Follies, 

and  Frolics.    By  W.  T.  Dobson. 
Poetical  Ingenuities.    By  W.  T.  Dobson. 
The  Cupboard  Papers.    By  Fin-Bec, 
Y/.  S.  Gilbert's  Plays.    First  Series. 
W.  S.  Gilbert's  Plays.    Second  Series. 
Songs  of  Irish  Wit  and  Humour. 
Animals  and  Masters.    By  Sir  A.  Helps. 
Social  Pressure.    By  Sir  A.  Helps. 
Curiosities  of  Criticism.   H.  J.  Jennings. 
Holmes's  Autocrat  of  Breakfast-Table. 
Pencil  and  Palette.    By  R.  Kempt. 


Post  8vo,  cloth  limp,  3*.  Gel.  per  Volume. 
Little  Essays:  from  Lamb's  Letters. 
Forensic  Anecdotes.  By  Jacob  Larwood 
Theatrical  Anecdotes.    Jacob  Larwood 
Jeux  d'Esprit.  Edited  by  Henry  S.  Leigh. 
Witch  Stories.    By  E.  Lynn  Linton. 
Ourselves.    By  E.  Lynn  Linton. 
Pastimes  &  Players.    ByR.  Macgregor. 
New  Paul  and  Virginia.  W.H.Mallock. 
New  Republic.    By  W.  H.  Mallock. 
Puck  on  Pegasus.    By  H.  C.  Pennell. 
Pegasus  Re-Saddled.  By  H.  C.  Pennell. 
Muses  of  Mayfalr.    Ed.  H.  C.  Pennell. 
Thoreau  :  His  Life  &  Aims.  By  H.  A.  Page. 
Puniana.    By  Hon.  Hugh  Rowley. 
More  Puniana.    By  Hon.  Hugh  Rowley. 
The  Philosophy  of  Handwriting. 
By  Stream  and  Sea.    By  Wm.  Senior. 
Leaves  from  a  Naturalist's  Note-Book. 
By  Dr.  Andrew  Wilson. 


THE  GOLDEN  LIBRARY. 
Bayard  Taylor's  Diversions  of  the  Echo 

Club. 
Bennett's  Ballad  History  of  England. 
Bennett's  Songs  for  Sailors. 
Godwin's  Lives  of  the  Necromancers. 
Pope's  Poetical  Works. 
Holmes's  Autocrat  of  Breakfast  Table. 


Post  8vo,  cloth  limp,  3s.  per  Volume. 

!    Holmes's  Professor  at  Breakfast  Table. 

I  Jesse's  Scenes  of  Country  Life. 

Leigh    Hunt's    Tale    for    a    Chimney 
Corner. 

Mallory's  Mort  d'Arthur:  Selections. 

Pascal's  Provincial  Letters. 

Rochefoucauld's  Maxims  &  Reflections, 


THE  WANDERER'S   LIBRARY. 

Wanderings  in  Patagonia.     By  Julius 

Beerbohm.    Illustrated. 
Camp  Notes.    By  Frederick  Boyle. 
Savage  Life.    By  Frederick  Boyle. 
Merrie  England  in  the  Olden  Time.    By 

G.  Daniel.     Illustrated  by  Cruikshank. 
Circus  Life.    By  Thomas  Frost. 
Lives  of  the  Conjurers.    Thomas  Frost. 
The  Old  Showmen  and  the  Old  London 

Fairs.    By  Thomas  Frost. 
Low-Life  Deeps.   By  James  Greenwood. 


Crown  8vo,  cloth  extra,  3s.  Cd.  each. 
Wilds  of  London.     James  Greenwood. 
Tunis.  Chev.  Hesse-Wartegg.  salllusts. 
Life  and  Adventures  of  a  Cheap  Jack. 
World  Behind  the  Scenes.  P.Fitzgerald. 
Tavern  Anecdotes  and  Sayings. 
The  Genial  Showman.  By  E.P.  Hingston 
Story  of  London  Parks.  Jacob  Larwood. 
London  Characters.  By  Henry  Mayhew. 
Seven  Generations  of  Executioners. 
Summer  Cruising  in   the  South   Seas. 

By  C.  Warren  Stoddard.     Illustrated. 


POPULAR  SHILLING  BOOKS. 


Harry  Fludyer  at  Cambridge. 
Jeff  Briggs's  Love  Story.    Bret  Harte. 
Twins  of  Table  Mountain.  Bret  Harte. 
Snow-bound  at  Eagle's.  By  Bret  Harte. 
A  Day's  Tour.    By  Percy  Fitzgerald, 
Esther's  Glove.    By  R.  E.  Francillon, 
Sentenced!    By  Somerville  Gibney. 
The  Professor's  Wife.    By  L.Graham. 
Mrs.   Gainsborough's    Diamonds.      By 

luLiAN  Hawthorne. 
Niagara  Spray.    By  J,  Hollingshead. 
A  Romance  of  the  Queen's  Hounds.    By 

Charles  James. 
The  Garden  that  Paid  the  Rent.     By 

Tom  Jrrrold. 
Cut  by  the  Mess.    By  Arthur  Keyser. 
Our  Sensation  Novel.   J.  H.  McCarthy. 
Doom!     By  Justin  H.  McCarthy,  M.P. 
Dolly.     By  Justin  H.  McCarthy,  M.P. 


Lily  Lass.    Justin  H.  McCarthy,  M.P. 
Was  She  Good  or  Bad  ?     By  W.  Minto. 
Notes  from  the  "News."    ByjAs.  Payn. 
Beyond  the  Gates.    By  E.  S,  Phelps. 
Old  Maid's  Paradise,    By  E.  S.  Phelps. 
Burglars  in  Paradise.  By  E.  S.  Phelps. 
Jack  the  Fisherman.    By  E.  S.  Phelps. 
Trooping  with  Crows.    By  C.  L.  Pirkis, 
Bible  Characters.    By  Charles  Reade, 
Rogues.    By  R.  II.  Sherard, 
The  Dagonet  Reciter.    By  G.  R.  Sims. 
How  the  Poor  Live.    By  G.  R.  Sims. 
Case  of  George  Candlemas.  G.  R.  Sims. 
Sandycroft  Mystery.    T.  W.  Speight. 
Hoodwinked.     By  T.  W.  Speight. 
Father  Damien.    By  R.  L.  Stevenson. 
A  Double  Bond.    By  Linda  Villari. 
My  Life  with  Stanley's  Rear  Guard.  By 
Herbert  Ward. 


CHATTO    &    WINDUS,    214,    PICCADILLY. 


27 


MY    LIBRARY. 

Choice  Works,  printed  on  laid  paper,  boiiiid  liRlf-Roxbiirf»he,  ^h.  ftil.  each. 


Four  Frenchwomen.  By  Austin  Dohson 
Citation  and  Examination  of  V/illiam 

Shakspeare.     Hy  W.  S.  Landor. 
The  Journal  of  Maurice  de  Guerin. 

THE  POCKET   LIBRARY.     Post  Svo,  print.d  on  laid  paper  an^  hf.-l.d,, -^m.  each 


Christie  Johnstone.  By  Charles  Reade. 

With  a  PhotO!,'ravure  Frontispiece. 
Peg  Wofflngton.    ByCnAF(i.r.s  Rkadk. 
The  Dramatic  Essays  of  Charles  Lamb. 


The  Essays  of  Elia.    By  Charles  Lamb. 
Robinson  Crusoe.  Edited  by  John  Major. 

With  3-  Ulusts.  by  George  Cruikshank. 
Whims  and  Oddities.  By  Thomas  Hood. 

With  tis  Illustrations. 
The  Barber's  Chair,  and  The  Hedgehog 

Letters.    By  Douolas  Jekrold. 
Gastronomy  as  a  Fine  Art.  By  Brillat- 

Savarin.    Trans.  R.  E.  Anderson,  M.A. 


The  Epicurean,  lie.    By  Thomas  Mooue. 
Leigh  Hunt's  Essays.    Ed.  E.  Olmkr. 
White's  Natural  History  of  Selborne. 
Gulliver's  Travels,  and   The   Tale  of  a 

Tub.     By  Dean  Swift. 
The  Rivals,  School  for  Scandal,  and  other 

Plavs  l>y  Rkharh  Bkinslev  biiERiDAN. 
Anecdotes  of  the  Clergy.  J.  Larwood. 
Thomson's  Seasons.     Illustrated. 


THE    PICCADILLY    NOVELS. 

Library  Editions  of  Novels  f,y  the  Best  Authors,  many  Illustrated, 
crown  8vo,  cloth  extra,  ;{s.  Cil.  each. 


Th 


By  F.  M.  Al.L,KI\. 

Green  Bird. 

By  «KAI\T   Al.f.lElV. 

Philistia.  I  The  Tents  of  Shem. 

Babylon  For  rSaimie's  Sake. 

Strange  Stories.       |  The  Devil's  Die. 
Beckoning  Hand.    I  This  Mortal  Coil. 
In  all  Shades.         |  The  Great  Taboo. 
Duinaresq's  Daughter. 
-By  KI»\V«^   Bi.  AKNOJil). 
Phra  the  Phoenician. 

By  A1..-1IV  f>'V.  AUBYIV. 
A  Fellow  of  Trinity. 

By  BfV.  S.  BABIIVC;  CJOHJLK. 
Red  Spider.  |  Eve. 

By  W.  BESANT  &-  ,¥.  RffCE. 


By  Celia's  Arbour. 
Monks  of  Thelema. 
The  Seamy  Side. 
Ten  Years' Tenant. 


My  Little  Girl. 
Case  of  Mr.Lucraft. 
ThisSonofVulcan. 
Golden  Butterfly. 
Ready-Money  Mortiboy. 
With  Harp  and  Crov/n. 
'Twas  in  Trafalgar's  Bay. 
The  Chaplain  of  the  Fleet. 

By  \VA!tiTi:B    BKWAIVT. 
All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of  Men. 
The  Captains'  Room. 
Ail  in  a  Garden  Fair 
The  World  Went  Very  Well  Than. 
For  Faith  and  Freedom 


The  Holy  Rose. 
Armorel  of  Lyon- 

esse. 
St.  Katherine's  by 

the  Tower. 


Dorothy  Forster. 
Uncle  jack. 
Children  of  Gibeon. 
Herr  Paulus. 
Bell  of  St.  Paul's. 
To  Call   Her  Mine.  | 

By  KOBKB'I'    Blt'IIANAX. 
The  Shadow  of  the  Sword. 
A  Child  of  Nature. 
The  Martyrdom  of  Madeline. 
God  and  the  Man.  I  The  New  Abelard. 
Love  Me  for  Ever.     Foxglove  Manor. 
Annan  Water.         |  Master  of  the  Mine. 
Matt.  I  Heir  of  Linne. 

By  Iff  %I.I.   <'.\1I.MC. 
The  Shadow  of  a  Crime. 
A  Son  of  Hagar.      |  The  Deemster. 
naOBT.  iV  I'BAIVJ'ICS  (:OI.ff^l.\.<4. 
Transmigration. 
From  Midnight  to  Midnight. 
Blacksmith  and  Scholar. 
VUUge  Comedy.     1  You  Play  Me  False. 


By  ^VIliKIK 

Armadale. 
After  Dark. 
No  Name. 
Antonina,  |  Basil 
Hide  and  Seek. 
The  Dead  Secret. 
Queen  of  Hearts. 
My  Miscellanies. 
Woman  in  White 
The  Moonstone. 
Man  and  Wife. 
Poor  Miss  Finch. 
Miss  or  Mrs? 
New  Magdalen. 


VOl.l.llSf*. 

The  Frozen  Deep. 
The  Two  Destinies. 
Law  and  the  Lady 
Haunted  Hotel. 
The  Fallen  Leaves. 
Jezebel's  Daughter. 
The  Black  Robe. 
Heart  and  Science. 
"I  Say  No." 
Little  Novels. 
The  Evil  Genius. 
Tha  Legacy  of  Cain 
A  Rogue's  Life. 
Blind  Love. 


By  IJUTTOIV   COOK. 

Paul  Foster's  Daughter. 

By  ITffATT    t'Bfftl. 
Adventures  of  a  Fair  Rebel. 

By   \V1I.I,BA:U    CVPIjES. 
Hearts  of  Gold. 

By  AIil»HO>.«Jl!:    DAUBET. 
The  Evangelist;  or.  Port  Salvation. 

By  eras:tiu?»  dawso^-v. 

The  Fountain  of  Vouth. 

By  JAUES   DE  ITIII^IiE. 
A  Castle  in  Spain. 

By  .1.   I.EITII   BEBM  i::VT. 

Our  Lady  of  Tears.  |     Circe's  Lovers. 

By  1>H"1£    l>0.\OVA.>. 
Tracked  to  Doom. 

B;y    Mi«.  A.>ME    EU\VABDE.<i). 
Archie  Lovell. 

By  ti.    TIANVIIiI.E    FEXIV. 
Tlie  New  Mistress. 

By   l>i:iCi:V    I'lTZCEKAIiD. 
Fatal  Zero. 

By   B.  E.  I'lE  \:^'f'II.I,0>. 

8uocn  Cophciua.      j  A  Roal  Queen, 
ne  by  One.  |  King  or  Knave? 

B>i'<  1.  by  Nil-  ItAlCTI.E   I'BEBE. 
Pandurang  Harl. 

K\   lOUU  ABU    4;.%BICE'l"r. 
The  Cupel  Girls. 


28 


BOOKS   PUBLISHED    BY 


The  Piccadilly  (3/6)  Novels — continued. 

By  CIIARIiEJ^  OIBBOIV. 
Robin  Gray.  I  The  Golden  Shaft. 

Loving  a  Dream.    |  Of  High  Degree. 
The  Flower  of  the  Forest. 

By   E.   CJIiAIVVIliIiJE. 
The  Lost  Heiress. 
The  Fossiclier. 

By  TIIOITIA8   «¥AR»Y. 
Under  the  Greenwood  Tree. 

By   BBKT    HAKTE. 
A  Waif  of  the  Plains. 
A  Ward  of  the  Golden  Gate. 
A  Sappho  of  Green  Springs. 
Colonel  Starbottle's  Client. 

By  JUtilAIV  HA^VTSfORIVE. 
Garth.  I  Dust. 

Eliice  Quentin.  Fortune's  Fool. 

Sebastian  Strome.  |  Beatrix  Randolph. 
David  Poindexter's  Disappearance. 
The  Spectre  of  the  Camera. 

By  Sir  A.  HEi.PS. 
Ivan  de  Biron. 

By  ISAAt;    HEIVBEKSOIV. 
Agatha  Page. 

By  ITIis.  AliFREB    ISSTNT. 
The  Leaden  Casket.  |  Self-Condemned. 
That  other  Person. 

By  JEAIV   IIVCiEt,0\V. 
Fated  to  be  Free. 

By  R.  ASHE    Ei^EIVO. 
A  Drawn  Game. 
"The  Wearing  of  the  Green." 

By  IIEIVRY    KINtJSI.EV. 
Number  Seventeen. 

By  E.  IvVNIV  f^IIVTON. 
Patricia  Kemball.  I  lone. 
Under  which  Lord?    Paston  Carew. 
"My  Lovel"  I  Sowing  the  Wind. 

The  Atonement  of  Leam  Dundas. 
The  World  Well  Lost. 

By  IBEIVRY    W.  LiUCY. 
Gideon  Fleyce. 

By  jrsTBiv  McCarthy. 

A  Fair  Saxon.  I  Donna  Quixote. 

Linley  Rochford.       Maid  of  Athens. 
Miss  Misanthrope.  I  Camiola. 
The  Waterdale  Neighbours. 
My  Enemy's  Daughter. 
Dear  Lady  Disdain. 
Tlie  Comet  of  a  Season. 

By  A<SIVES   i«A<JBOiVEf.Ii. 
Quaker  Cousins. 

ISy  I>.  CHRISTIE  ITIITRRAY. 
Life's  Atonement.    I  Val  Strange. 
Joseph's  Coat.  Hearts. 

Coals  of  Fire.  |  A  Model  Father. 

Old  Blazer's  Hero. 
By  the  Gate  of  the  Sea. 
A  Bit  of  Human  Nature. 
First  Person  Singular. 
Cynic  Fortune. 
The  Way  of  the  World. 

By    TIIIRRAY    &.   IIERmAIV. 
The  Bishops'  Bible. 
Paul  Jones's  Alias. 

Bv  tivnii   NISBET. 
"Bail  Up  I" 


The  Piccadilly  (3/6)  Novels — continued. 

By  OEOROES   OHNET. 
A  Weird  Gift. 

By  Mrs.  OlilPIIANT. 
Whlteladies. 

By  OUIDA. 


Held  in  Bondage. 

Strathmore. 

Chandos. 

Under  Two  Flags. 

Idalia. 

CecilCastlemaine's 


Two  Little  Wooden 

Shoes. 
In  a  Winter  City. 
Ariadne. 
Friendship. 
Moths.     I   Rufnnc. 
Pipistrello, 
A  Village  Commune 
Bimbi.     |  Wanda. 
Frescoes. 
In  Maremma. 
Othmar.    |    Syrlin. 
Guilderoy. 

PAUJL. 


Trlcotrin.    I    Puck. 
Folle  Farine. 
A  Dog  of  Flanders. 
Pascarel.  I    Signa. 
Princess    Maprax- 

ine. 

By  MAROARET  A 
Gentle  and  Simple. 

By  JAMES    PAYIV. 
Lost  Sir  Massingberd. 
Less  Black  than  We're  Painted. 
A  Confidential  Agent. 
A  Grape  from  a  Thorn. 
In  Peril  and  Privation. 
The  Mystery  of  Mirbridge. 
The  Canon's  Ward. 
Walter's  Word. 
By  Proxy. 
High  Spirits. 
Under  One  Roof. 
From  Exile. 
Glow-worm  Tales 


Talk  of  the  Town. 
Holiday  Tasks. 
The  Burnt  Million. 
The  Word  and  the 

Will. 
Sunny  Stories. 


By  E.  €'.  PRICE. 

Yalentina.  I  The  Foreigners. 

Mrs.  Lancaster's  Rival. 

By  RICHARB  PRYCE. 
Miss  MaxY/ell's  Affections. 

By  CIIARI.es  REABE. 
It  is  Never  Too  Late  to  Mend. 
The  Double  Marriage. 
Love  Me  Little,  Love  Me  Long. 
The  Cloister  and  the  Hearth. 
The  Course  of  True  Love. 
The  Autobiography  of  a  Thief. 
Put  Yourself  in  his  Place. 
A  Terrible  Temptation. 
Singleheart  and  Doubleface. 
Good  Storiesof  Men  and  other  Animals. 
Hard  Cash,  Wandering  Heir. 

Peg  Wofflngton.         A  Woman-Hater 
ChristieJohnstone.    A  Simpleton. 
Griffith  Gaunt.  Readiana. 

Foul  Play.  The  Jilt. 

A  Perilous  Secret. 

By  Mr.«.  .1.  H.  RIDBEI.^. 
The  Prince  of  Wales's  Garden  Party. 
Weird  Stories. 

By  E.  W.  ROBLXSOA'. 
Women  are  Strange. 
The  Hands  of  Justice. 

By  \V.  CI.ARIi    RlTSSEt.I.. 
An  Ocean  Tragedy. 
My  Shipmate  Louise. 

By  JO  HIV    SAriVBERS. 
Guy  Waterman.       |  Two  Dreamers. 
Bound  to  the  Vi^heel. 
The  Lion  in  the  Path. 


CHATTO    8c    WINDUS,    214,    PICCADILLY. 


29 


The  Piccadilly  (3/6)  Novels— continued. 
By  KATHAKIIVK  !i«AUIVUEIC!<4. 

Margaret  and  Elizabeth. 

Gideon's  Rock.  I  Heart  Salvage. 

The  High  Mills.        I  Sebastian. 

By  I.lKt^    MIIAUI*. 
In    a  Steamer  Chair. 

lly  IIAWI.KV   STIAKT. 
Without  Love  or  Licence. 

By  R.  A.  KTKKXDAl.E. 

The  Afghan  Knife. 

By  BI^ISTIIA    TIIOTIAK. 

Proud  Maisie.  |  The  Violin-player. 

By  FRAIVt'E><    K.  TKOI.I.OS*E. 

Like  Ships  upon  the  Sea. 

Anne  Furness.         |  Mabel's  Progress. 


The  Piccadilly  (3/6)  Novels— fO))/i(i»fi/. 

By  AIVTIIO.W  TKOEEOI^i:. 
Frau  Frohmann.  |  Kept  in  the  Dark. 
Marion  Fay.  |  Land-Leaguers. 

Tho  Way  We  Live  Now. 
Mr.  Scarborough's  Family. 

Bv   IVAiV    'I'l  B<;i:.>li:i.-I.-,  Ar. 
Stories  from  Foreign  Novelists. 

By  <  .  <-.  lECAJSESC-TVTEEK. 
Mistress  Judith. 

By  SABA  EI  TVTEER. 
The  Bride's  Pass.    I  Lady  Bell. 
Noblesse  Oblige.       |  Buried  Diamonds. 
The  Blackball  Ghosts. 

By    .^lARK   TAVABX. 
The  American  Claimant. 

By  .1.  «.  WINTER. 
A  Soldier's  Children. 


CHEAP   EDITIONS   OF   POPULAR   NOVELS. 

Post  8vo,  illustrated  boards,  3>*.  e  ich. 


By  ARTE:TirS    WARD. 

Artemus  Ward  Complete. 

By  EO.UOI\I>  ABOUT. 

The  Fellah. 

By  IIAITIIETON   AIDE. 

Carr  of  Carrlyon,   |  Confidences. 
By  .TIARV    AI.BIiUT. 

Brooke  Flnchley's  Daughter. 

By  I»I«s.  AEI-:.XAIVI>EB. 

Maid,  Wife,  or  Widow  ?  j  Valerie's  Fate. 

By  <i;RA.\r  ai-i.e:\. 

Strange  Stories.      1  The  Devil's  Die. 
Philistia.  This  Mortal  Coil. 

Babylon.  I  In  all  Shades. 

The  Beckoning  Hand. 
For  Maimie's  Sake.  |  Tents  of  Shem. 
The  Great  Taboo. 

By  A  I. A IV  J*T.  ATBVX. 
A  Fellow  of  Trinity. 

By  Rev.  S.  BARi>'C;   COITED. 
Red  Spider.  |  Eve. 

By  FRAMi    JJARRETT. 
Fettered  for  Life. 
Between  Life  and  Death. 
The  Sin  of  Olga  Zassoulich. 
BySilEI.SI.EV  REAL  CHAMP. 
Grantley  Grange. 

By  W'.  RESA.XT   &-  .1.  Rl<  E. 


By  Celia's  Arbour. 
Monks  of  Thelema. 
The  Seamy  Side. 
Ten  Years' Tenant. 


This  Son  of  Vulcan 
My  Little  Girl. 
Case  of  Mr.Lucraft. 
Golden  Butterfly. 
Ready-Money  Mortiboy. 
With  Harp  and  Crown. 
'Twas  in  Trafalgar's  Bay. 
The  Chaplain  of  the  Fleet. 

By  WAI/I'ER    BEMANT. 
Dorothy  Forstcr.     1  Uncle  Jack. 
Children  of  Gibeon.  I  Herr  Paulus. 
All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of  Men. 
The  Captains'  Room. 
All  in  a  Garden  Fair. 
The  World  Went  Very  Well  Then 
For  Faith  and  Freedom. 
To  Call  Her  Mine. 
The  Bell  of  St.  Paul's. 
The  Holy  Rose. 


Ry  FREDERICK  BOVI.E. 

Camp  Notes,  |  Savage  Life. 

Chronicles  of  No-man's  Land. 

By  BRET    IJARTE. 

Flip.  I  Californian  Stories. 

Maruja.  1  Gabriel  Conroy. 

An  Heiress  of  Red  Dog. 
The  Luck  of  Roaring  Camp. 
A  Phyllis  of  the  Sierras. 

Ry  lEAROED    BRVDGEI9. 

Uncle  Sam  at  Home. 

By  ROBERT    BlCnAIVA:V. 

The  Shadow  of  the    The  Martyrdom  of 

Sword.  Madeline. 

A  Cliild  of  Nature.    Annan  Water. 
God  and  tho  Man.    The  New  Abelard. 
Love  Me  for  Ever.     Matt. 
Foxglove  Manor.       The  Heir  of  Linne. 
The  Master  of  the  Mine. 

By  IIAEH.    <  AI>E. 
The  Shadow  of  a  Crime. 
A  Son  of  Hagar.      |  The  Deemster. 

Ry  <'oiiimnii«1(r  CA.TIERO.V. 
The  Cruise  of  the  "Black  Prince." 
KEy    TIiv-.  EOVETT  <  AMER<». 
Deceivers  Ever.       I  Juliet's  Guardian. 

By  Al XTi.X    (  i.ARE. 
For  the  Love  of  a  Lass. 

By    Tli>i.  AR«iIER  C  l-H  F. 
Paul  Ferroll. 
V/hy  Paul  Ferroll  Killed  his  Wife. 

Bv    Tin  I- ARE. \    (Oi:i{A>. 
The  Cure  of  Souls. 

By  <'.  AEESI'0.>'   COEEI.XS. 
The  Bar  Sinister. 

TSORT.  iV  B'ICA.X  ES  COEEIXS. 
Sweet  Anno  Page.   ;  Transmigration. 
From  Midnight  to  Midnight. 
A  Fight  with  Fortune. 
Sweet  and  Twenty,  j  Village  Comedy. 
Frances.  I  You  Play  me  false. 

Blacksmith  and  Scholar. 


3° 


BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY 


Two-Shilling  'Hovei.s— continued. 

By  M  lliKlE    CO¥>IiINS. 
Armadale.  |  My  Miscellanies. 


Woman  in  White. 
The  Moonstone. 
Man  and  Wife. 
Poor  Miss  Finch. 
The  Fallen  Leaves. 
Jeze^el's  Daughter 
The  Black  Robe. 
Heart  and  Science. 
"I  Say  No." 
The  Evil  Genius. 
Little  Novels. 
Legacy  of  Cain. 
Blind  Love. 


After  Dark. 
No  Name. 
Antonina.  |   Basil. 
Hide  and  Seek. 
The  Dead  Secret. 
Queen  of  Hearts. 
Miss  or  Mrs? 
New  Magdalen. 
The  Frozen  Deep. 
Law  and  the  Lady. 
The  Two  Destinies. 
Haunted  Hotel. 
A  Rogue's  Life. 

By  M.  J.  COIiQlIIOUiX. 
Every  Inch  a  Soldier. 

By  BUTTOIV   COOK. 
Leo.  I  Paul  Foster's  Daughter. 

By    €.  ECJBERT    CUADDOI'K. 
Prophet  of  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains. 

By  '^VIIiljIAM   CVrtiES. 
Hearts  of  Gold. 

By  AI^PBfONSE   DAIWET. 
The  Evangelist;  or,  Port  Salvation. 

By  JAIWES  IDE   MJJLJLE. 
A  Castle  in  Spain. 

By  .¥.  liEITH   BERIVENT. 
Our  Lady  of  Tears.  |  Circe's  Lovers. 

By  i;iaAKEE*   RK'SCEiXS. 
Sketches  by  Boz.     I  Oliver  Tv^/ist. 
Pickwick  Papers.    |  Nicholas  Nickleby. 

By  I>ICIi  DOIVOVA^r. 
The  Man-Hunter.     |  Caught  at  Last! 
Tracked  and  Taken. 
Who  Poisoned  Hetty  Duncan? 
The  Man  from  Manchester. 
A  Detective's  Triumphs. 
In  the  Grip  of  the  Law. 

C'ONAN  I>OYIiE,  and  olliers. 
Strange  Secrets. 

By  i^Srs.  ANNIE  EO^^'AROES. 
A  Point  of  Honour.  |  Archie  Lovell. 

By  M.  BETHAI7I-E»\VARI>S. 
Felicia.  I  Kitty. 

By  EDWARD  EOtJEESTON. 
Roxy. 

By  PERCY  FITZ«EBAI.I>. 
Bella  Donna.  I  Polly. 

Never  Forgotten.     1  Fatal  Zero. 
The  Second  Mrs.  Tillotson. 
Seventy-five  Brooke  Street. 
The  Lady  of  Brantome. 
AliBANY    »E    FONBEANQUE. 
Filthy  Lucre. 

By  R.  E.  FRANC  lEl. ON. 
Olympia.  Queen  Cophetua. 

One  by  One.  King  or  Knave? 

A  Real  Queen.  Romances  of  Law. 

By   ESAROED   FREDERICK. 
Seth's  Brother's  Wife. 
The  Lawton  Girl. 

H'ret.hy  8ir  BARTEE  FRERE. 
Pandurang  Hari. 


Two- Shilling  Novels — continued. 

By  HAIN  FRISWEEE. 
One  of  Two. 

By  EDWARD  GARRETT. 

The  Capel  Girls. 

By  CHAREES   OIBBON. 

Robin  Gray.  I  In  Honour  Bound. 

Fancy  Free.  Flower  of  Forest. 

For  Lack  of  Gold.     Braes  of  Yarrow. 
What      will      the    The  Golden  Shaft. 

World  Say?  Of  High  Degree. 

In  Love  and  War.    Mead  and  Stream. 
For  the  King.  1  Loving  a  Drearn. 

In  Pastures  Green.    A  Hard  Knot. 
Queen  of  Meadow.    Heart's  Delight. 
A  Heart's  Problem.    Blood-Money. 
The  Dead  Heart,     i 

Br  IVIEIilAM   GIEBERT. 
Dr.  Austin's  Guests.  1  James  Duke. 
The  Wizard  of  the  Mountain. 

By   ERNESST   OEANVIEEE. 
The  Lost  Heiress. 

By  IIENRV  CIREVIEEE. 
A  Koble  Woman.      |   Nikanor. 

By  JOHN  HABBERTON. 
Brueton's  Bayou.    |  Country  Luck. 

Ky  ANDREAV   IIAEEIDAV. 
E  very-Day  Papers. 

By  Ea.ly  DIFFUS   EIABDV. 
Paul  Wynter's  Sacrifice. 

By  TilOlTIA!^  HJAKDY. 
Under  the  Greenwood  Tree. 
By  .1.  BER^VICHL  ISARWOOD. 
The  Tenth  Earl. 

BJy  JCEIAN  IIA^VTHORNE. 
Garth.  Sebastian  Strome. 

Ellice  Quentin.  Dust. 

Fortune's  Fool.  Beatrix  Randolph. 

Miss  Cadogna.  Love— or  a  Name. 

David  Poindexter's  Disappearance. 
The  Spectre  of  the  Camera. 

By  Sir  ARTHUR   HE  EPS*. 

Ivan  de  Biron. 

By    HENRY    HERMAN. 

A  Leading  Lady. 

By  Mi«.  CASIIEE    IIOEl'. 
The  Lover's  Creed. 
B>   Mis.  GEORGE  HOOPER. 
The  House  of  Raby. 

By  TIG  HE    HOPKINS. 
'Twixt  Love  and  Duty. 

By  ITIrs.  A  EFRED   HCNT. 
Thornicroft's  Model.  I  SelfCondemnad. 
That  Other  Person.    |  Leaden  Casket. 

By  JEAN   INGEEOIV. 
Fated  to  be  Free. 

By  HARRIETT   JAY 
The  Dark  Colleen. 
The  Queen  of  Connaught. 

By  MARK    KERMHAAV. 
Colonial  Facts  and  Fictions. 

Ry  R.  AMHE    KING. 
A  Drawn  Game.      |  Passion's  Slave. 
"  The  Wearing  of  the  Green," 
Bell  Barry. 


CHATTO    &c    WINDUS,    214,    PICCADILLY. 


31 


Two-Shilling  Hovels— continued. 
IS)  HKIVRV   KUVC^.SI.EY. 

Oakshott  Castle. 

By  JOIIIV   I.EYS. 

Tha  Lindsays. 

Bj   E.  r-YIV:V    l.IXTO.V. 
Patricia  Kemball.  I  Pastoii  Carev/. 
World  Well  Lost.      "My  Love  I" 
UnderwhichLord?  I  lone. 
The  Atonement  of  Learn  Dundas. 
With  a  Silken  Thread. 
The  Rebel  of  the  Family. 
Sowing  the  Wind. 

By  lEKMCY    \V.  HJC'W 

Gideon  Fleyce. 

By  JlfSTIIV    :TIc-C"ARTHV. 

A  Fair  Saxon.  1  Donna  Quixote. 

Linley  Rochford.     1  Maid  of  Athens. 

Miss  Misanthrope.  |  Camiola. 

Dear  Lady  Disdain. 

The  Waterdale  Neighbours. 

My  Enemy's  Daughter. 

The  Comet  of  a  Season. 

By  A«>'E!?»  MACDOEIil.. 

Quaker  Cousins. 

KATBIARIIVE    S.  MAC'CtlOBO. 

The  Evil  Eye.  i  Lost  Rose. 

By  W\  II.   ITIAEI-OCK. 
The  New  Republic. 

Bv  FI.OKENfE    :TIARRYA'r. 
Open!  Sesame!        i  Fighting  the  Air. 
A  Harvest  of  Wild  Oats. 
Written  in  Fire. 

By  J.  .1IASTEB3IAIV 
Haifa-dozen  Daughters. 
By  BRAXBER  lUATTEIEW!^. 
A  Secret  of  the  Sea. 

By  JEAN   miDDEETiASSi. 
Touch  and  Go.        |  Mr.  Dorillion. 

By  Mrw.  :TI0EES WORTH. 
Hathercourt  Rectory. 

By  .1.  E.  ?ll  BDOfK. 

Stories  Weird  and  Wonderful. 
The  Bead  Man's  Secret. 
Bv  1>.  CHRISTIE  :TIURRAY. 

A  Model  Father.        Old  Blazer's  Hero. 

Joseph's  Coat.  Hearts. 

Coals  of  Fire.  Way  of  the  World. 

Val  Strange.  Cynic  Fortune. 

A  Life's  Atonement. 

By  the  Gate  of  the  Sea. 

A  Bit  of  Human  Nature. 

First  Person  Singular. 

Bv  :»II^RRAY  and   IIER.TIA^'. 
One  Traveller  Returns. 
Paul  Jones's  Alias. 
The  Bishops'  Bible. 

By  IIEXRY   MURRAY. 

A  Game  of  Bluff. 

By  AEICE    OIIAXEO.V. 

The  Unforeseen.      |  Chance?  or  Fate? 


TWO-S HILLING    NcjVELS — CCIllimuil . 

By   (;EOR(;eM  OII.M:'!'. 

Doctor  Rameau.      I  A  Last  Love. 
A  Weird  Gift.  | 

By  .Mix.  OEIPII.t.\T. 

Whiteladies.  I  The  Primrose  Path. 

The  Greatest  Heiress  in  England. 
lEy   .lIiH.  ROBERT   O'REII.EY. 
Phoebe's  Fortunes. 

By  or  ID  A. 
Held  in  Bondage.     Two  Little  Wooden 


Cora- 


Shoes. 
Friendship. 
Moths. 
Pipistrello. 
A    Village 

mune. 
Bimbi. 
Wanda. 
Frescoes. 
In  Maremma. 
Othmar. 
Guilderoy. 
RufRno. 
Syrlin. 
Ouida's    Wisdom, 

Wit,  and  Pathos. 


Strathmore. 

Chandos. 

Under  Two  Flags. 

Idalia. 

CccilCastlemaine's 

Gage. 
Tricotrin. 
Puck. 

Folle  Farine. 
A  Dog  of  Flanders. 
Pascarel. 
Signa. 
Princess    Naprax- 

ine. 
In  a  Winter  City. 
Ariadne. 

;»IAR«ARET   ACJi\E«  I' A  IE 
Gentle  and  Simple. 

By  .lA  UE.«*   PAYjV. 
Bentlnck's  Tutor.      £200  Reward. 
Murphy's  Master. 
A  County  Family. 
At  Her  Mercy. 
Cecil's  Tryst. 
Clyffards  of  Clyffe. 
Foster  Brothers. 
Found  Dead. 
Best  of  Husbands. 
Walter's  Word. 
Halves. 

Fallen  Fortunes. 
Humorous  Stories. 
Lost  Sir  Massingberd 
A  Perfect  Treasure. 
A  Woman's  Vengeance. 
The  Family  Scapegrace. 
What  He  Cost  Her. 
Gwendoline's  Harvest. 
Like  Father,  Like  Son. 
Married  Beneath  Him. 
Not  Wooed,  but  Won. 
Less  Black  than  We're  Painted. 
A  Confidential  Agent. 
Some  Private  Views. 
A  Grape  from  a  Thorn. 
Glow-worm  Tales. 
The  Mystery  of  Mirbridge. 
The  Burnt  Million. 
The  Word  and  the  Will. 

By  C.  E.  1>ERKI«I. 
Lady  Lovelace. 

By  EUtiiAIC   A.  I>OE. 
The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget. 

By  E.  t".  I*RI«  1:. 
Yalentina.  1  The  Foreigners 

Mrs.  Lancaster's  Rival. 
Gerald. 


Marine  Residence. 
Mirk  Abbey. 
By  Proxy. 
Under  One  Roof. 
High  Spirits. 
Carlyon's  Year. 
From  Exile. 
For  Cash  Only. 
Kit. 

The  Canon's  Ward 
Talk  of  the  Town. 
Holiday  Tasks. 


CHATTO    &    WiNDUS,    214,    PICCADILLY. 


32 

Twc-Shilling  Hovei-s— continued. 

By  CHARLES  fSEABaj;. 
It  is  Never  Too  Late  to  Mend. 
Christie  Johnstone. 
Put  Yourself  in  His  Place. 
The  Double  Marriage. 
Love  Me  Little,  Love  Me  Long. 
The  Cloister  and  the  Hearth. 
The  Course  of  True  Love. 
Autobiography  of  a  Thief. 
A  Terrible  Temptation. 
The  Wandering  Heir. 
Singleheart  and  Doubleface. 
Good  Stories  of  Men  and  other  Animals. 
Hard  Cash.  I  A  Simpleton. 

Peg  WofRngton.       |  Readiana. 
Griffith  Gaunt.  A  Woman-Hater. 

Foul  Play.  |  The  Jilt. 

A  Perilous  Secret. 

By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Rai>»E5.5j. 
Weird  Stories.         |  Fairy  Water. 
Her  Mother's  Darling. 
Prince  of  Wales's  Garden  Parts'. 
The  Uninhabited  House. 
The  Mystery  in  Palace  Gardens. 
By  F.  W.  ROBai>fS«iV. 
Women  are  Strange. 
The  Hands  of  Justice. 

By  JAITIES   RUNCS.TSAIV. 
Skippers  and  Shellbacks. 
Grace  Balmaign's  Sweetheart. 
Schools  and  Scholars. 

By  \V.  CliAKSi   RV^HHSjIj. 
Round  the  Galley  Fire. 
On  the  Fo'k'sle  Head. 
In  the  Middle  Watch. 
A  Voyage  to  the  Cape. 
A  Book  for  the  Hammock. 
The  Mystery  of  the  "Ocean  Stai\" 
The  Romance  of  Jenny  Harlowe. 
An  Ocean  Tragedy. 
My  Shipmate  Louise. 
OEOROE   ArCJUSTSTS   SAl.A. 
Gaslight  and  Daylight. 

By  JOaiN   SAIUIVDERS4. 
Guy  Waterman.      |  Two  Dreamers. 
The  Lion  in  the  Path. 
By  KATIIARIjVE   SAUIVWE^SS. 
Joan  Merryweather.  I  Heart  Salvage. 
The  High  Mills.  |  Sebastian. 

Margaret  and  Elizabeth. 

By  GEOK«iE   K.  SllYIS. 
Rogues  and  Vagabonds. 
The  Ring  o'  Bells. 
Mary  Jane's  Memoirs. 
Mary  Jane  Married. 
Tales  of  To-day.    |  Dramas  of  Life. 
Tinkletop's  Crime. 
Zeph:  A  Circus  Story. 

By  ARTHUR  SKET€HI.EV. 
A  Match  in  the  Dark. 

By  HAIVI.KV  SMART. 
Without  Love  or  Licence. 

By  T.  \V.  SPEI«IIT. 
The  Mysteries  of  Heron  Dyke. 
The  Golden  Hoop.  I  By  Devious  Ways. 
Hoodwinked,  &c.     |  Back  to  Life. 


Two-Shilling  Novels — continued. 

By  B.  A.  STERNDAEE. 
The  Afghan  Knife. 

By  R.  EOUIS   STEVEN!^0:V. 
Hew  Arabian  Nights.  1    Prince  Otto. 
BV  BKRTHA  THOMA"*. 
Cressida.  |  Proud  Maisie. 

The  Violin-player. 

By  IVAETER   THORNBUlSr. 
Tales  for  the  Marines.  . 
Old  Stories  Re-told. 

T.  A»©EI»HtJS   TROEEOPE. 
Diamond  Cut  Diamond. 
By  F.  EEEANOR  TROEEOPE. 

Like  Ships  upon  the  Sea. 

Anne  Furness.         |  Mabel's  Progress. 

By  ANTHONY  TROEEOPE. 

Frau  Frohmann.     I  Kept  in  the  Dark. 

Marion  Fay.  |  John  Caldigate. 

The  Way  We  Live  Now. 

The  American  Senator. 

Mr.  Scarborough's  Family. 

The  Land-Leaguers. 

The  Golden  Lion  of  Granpere. 

By  J.  T.  TBOIVBRIOCE. 

Farnell's  Folly. 

By  IVAIV  TURKENIEFF,  &v. 
Stories  from  Foreign  Novelists. 
By  MARK   TIVABIV. 
A  Pleasure  Trip  on  the  Continent. 
The  Gilded  Age. 
Mark  Twain's  Sketches. 
Tom  Sawyer.  |  A  Tramp  Abroad. 

The  Stolen  White  Elephant. 
Huckleberry  Finn. 
Life  on  the  Mississippi. 
The  Prince  and  the  Pauper. 

By  €.  €.  FRASER-TYTEER. 
Mistress  Judith. 

By  i^ARAH  TYTEER. 
The  Bride's  Pass.    I  Noblesse  Oblige. 
Buried  Diamonds.  |  Disappeared. 
Saint Mungo'sCity.  I  Huguenot  Family 
Lady  Bell.  |  Blackball  Ghosts.. 

What  She  Came  Through. 
Beauty  and  the  Beast. 
Citoyenne  Jaqueline. 
BSy  Mrs.  V.  H.  WIEEIAMSON. 
A  Child  Widow. 

By  jr.  f.  ^VIIVTER. 
Cavalry  Life.       |  Regimental  Legends. 

By  H.  F.  ^VOO». 
The  Passenger  from  Scotland  Yard. 
The  Englishman  of  the  Rue  Cain. 

By  Eady  WOOB. 
Sabina. 

IFI.IA  PARKER  ^VOOEEEY. 
Rachel  Armstrong;  or,  Love  &  Theology 

By  EOMLIVO   YATEJ*. 
The  Forlorn  Hope.  |  Land  at  Last. 
Castaway. 


OGDEN,   SMALE   AND  CO.   LIMITED,   PRINTERS,   GREAT   SAFl'RON    HILL,   E.G. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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Form  L9-100m-9,'52(A3105)444 


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1392 


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