Persons who are desirous of witnessing deep-sea fishing can also be gratified by making arrangements with owners of the regular fishing boats; and as the various kinds of fish, the habits, manners, customs, and costumes of the fishers, and the mode of fishing off this coast have not undergone any change by time, the graphic description of the Brighton Fishery by the Welsh Zoologist, Thomas Pennant, who died in 1798, is here most apposite:—
“The fish-market, both wholesale and retail, is kept on the beach, a little beyond the baths; the boats used in the fisheries are from ten to fifteen tons, made remarkably strong to secure them against the storms in their winter adventure. The mackarel boats are navigated by three or four men and a boy; there are about forty-five for the mackarel fishery, and twenty-five for the trawling; they set sail generally in the evening, go eight or ten leagues to sea, and return the next day. The fishing is always carried on in the night. The crew are provided with tea, coffee, water, and a small quantity of spirits, for at sea they are remarkably temperate; their indulgence is only on shore. They only take with them bread, beef, and greens, which, and sometimes fish, they often eat with their tea and coffee. They are a hardy race, and very healthy; yet, during the Summer season, they have very small interval from labour. They get a good meal, and a very short repose by lying themselves on a bed during the few hours in the day on which they come on shore. They bring their fish in baskets to the beach, fling them in vast heaps, and instantly a ring of people is formed round, an auction [325a] is begun, and the heap immediately disposed of; the price is uncertain, according to the success of the night. Mackarel in the year 1793, were sold from £1 to £7 a hundred; they have been sold as high as £15 a hundred. [325b] Mackarel and soles are the great staples of the place, nine or ten thousand have been taken at one shooting of the net. Mackarel swim deep in calms, and rise to the surface in gales, when the largest fish and the greatest quantity are taken. [325c]
“The nets consist of a number of parts, each of which is from thirty-six to fifty yards long and deep, and are kept buoyant by corks. These united form a chain of nets a mile and a half long. Before they are used in the Spring, they are taken from the storehouses and spread upon the Steine; a privilege, time immemorial, granted to the fishermen. The boats are drawn on shore at the latter end of the Winter, and placed in ranges on the lower part of the Steyne, and other places near to the sea. The interval from labour is very small, for numbers of the boats are in the early Spring hired out to dredge for oysters, to supply the beds in the Medway and other places.
“The greater part of the fish is sent to London, packed in baskets, usually weighing about three quarters of a hundred in each; they are put into small light carts, which go post, carry from fifteen to thirty baskets each, and reach our capital in eight or ten hours.
“The mackarel are supposed to come from the Bay of Biscay. In the early Spring they are taken off Dieppe; they next appear off Mount’s Bay, where they are caught in seines, and sent by land to London in small baskets; the shooting of nets has not been found to answer off the Cornish shore. They arrive in the channel off Brighthelmston in the middle of April, and continue to the middle of July, after which they will not mesh, but are caught with hooks, and are at that season nearly unfit for eating. In June they are observed to approach nearer the shore; they continue in the channel till the cold season commences, when they go progressively north or east. The fry is seen of very small size in October and November.
“The herring fishery begins in October; those fish appear in great quantities along shore, and reach Hastings in November. The fishery is very considerable, and adventurers from every country engage in it. A boat has ten last of ten thousand each. The fish which are not sent to London fresh, are salted or cured as red herrings. The nets resemble those used in the mackarel fishery, only the meshes are smaller: they are about twenty feet deep, and are left to sink of themselves. The congenerous pilchards are sometimes taken here in the mackarel nets, but in very small quantities.
“Soles, the other staple fish, are taken in trawls in great numbers. The fishery begins in April, and continues all the Summer: in April, 1794, the weight of two tons was caught in one night. I saw in the same month a heap of soles on the market beach none of which were less than nineteen inches long. The other congenerous fishes were turbots, generally very indifferent; brills or pearl; smear dabs; plaice, and flounders.
“Various kinds of rays are taken here; such as the skate, the fuller, the thornback, the sand-ray, which has sharp slender spines on the edges, opposite to the eyes; minute spines along the edges of the fins, and upon the fins like the fuller; the back and tail shagreened, marked with round black spots; the teeth sharp and slender. A ray, not uncommon on the Flintshire coasts, is twenty-one inches long, of which the tail is eleven; the nose is pointed, and semi-transparent; two spines above each eye, and three placed in a row on the back; three rows on the tail, of which the middle runs far up the back edges of the body from the nose to the anal fin, rough, with rows of minute spines; back quite smooth, of a fine pale brown, regularly marked with circular black spots; teeth quite flat and smooth.
“Of the shark genus, the angel-fish is not uncommon. The smooth sharks, or topes, are very numerous; they grow to the length of four feet. I saw opened several of this species, and can vouch for the truth of the young entering the mouth of the parent in time of danger, and taking refuge in the stomach. I have seen from twelve to twenty taken out of a single tope, each eleven or twelve inches long. This species is split, salted, and eaten.
“I here met with the corbeagle of Mr. Jago. The length was three feet nine inches, the thickest circumference two feet one inch. It is a rare species, allied to the Beaumaris shark. The greater and lesser spotted dog-fish are very numerous.
“The common angler is frequently caught here, and sometimes of an enormous size; from the vast width of the mouth it is called here the kettle-man. The launce, and two species or weevers, are very common; the greater grows to the length of sixteen inches, is two inches deep, the weight of two pounds, and is a firm well-tasted fish. The fishermen have a great dread of the spines, and cut them off as soon as taken.
“The cod fish tribe are rather scarce, except the whitings, which are sometimes caught in mackarel nets, but chiefly with hooks. They are taken in April; but the best season is in October. I saw here the common cod, the whiting-pout, the coal-fish, and the five-bearded cod.
“The doree is frequently taken here: I saw one of fifteen pounds weight, and the length of three quarters of a yard. I saw here the lunated gilthead, and ancient wrasse, the basse, and red or striped surmullet: the last small. The red and the grey gurnards were common.
“Salmons are unknown here, which I am told is the case on all chalky coasts. The gar or needle-fish are often seen here, and of great lengths. I shall digress improperly in saying that the razor bills and guillemots, inhabitants of Beachy Head, are frequently caught in the mackarel nets, unwarily diving in the pursuit of the fish. Prawns are in their season taken in vast abundance near the shores, which wanting rocks to give shelter to the lobsters and crabs, those delicacies are brought from the more distant parts of the coast.”
A very general pastime with the low caste of the seafarers, when the weather is too boisterous for their fishing and boating operations, is sea-roaming, watching the margin of the turbulent waves upon the beach, to pick up the trifles which the surge may chance to throw up. Some years since,—before steam vessels were in use,—when weather-bound ships were unable to get out of the bay, of which Brighton forms the northern boundary, wrecks of richly laden crafts frequently afforded rare prizes for the roamers, who now, more than from the spoils, via jetsam et flotsam, pick up from strangers whom they may chance to meet on their stroll, many a silver coin, fictitious tales of their losses, bad voyages, and their starving large families, rarely failing to exact a coin of the realm, hence they are known amongst the better class of the nautical fraternity by the name of cadgers. On the faith, too, that “early birds pick up the worms,” not to be despised a living is obtained by frequenting at day-break the vicinity of houses where parties have been held the previous night, in search of jewellery, trinkets, or money that by any casualty may have been dropped. For many years this mode of life has been a monopoly by a man named Simmonds, who, also, throughout the livelong day pursues with a keen eye and a raking stick the business of gutter hunter.
Chapter XXVIII.
THE HISTORICAL STREET OF THE TOWN.
For historical lore, few continuous ranges of buildings in the kingdom are connected with so many national and local incidents as West Street, Brighton, which was formerly approached from the west, at the south end, by a hill, that ranged with Kent Street, which originally terminated due south to the West Cliff. The hill was of an altitude that, upon its removal, to make the roadway level between Russell Street and West Street, the front doors of the houses were one story above the pathway, compelling the construction of flights of steps in the fore-courts, commencing from east to west half the distance up, where a landing was formed, from whence another flight set off northward to the door-ways. The Cliff there at that time, was known as The Bank, a provincial term still used for it by most of the aborigines. The incline of the Gap went from the east corner of the street, direct south to the sea, which washed it in stormy weather, when, for safety, the bathing-machines and the boats stationed thereabouts, were hauled into the street as high up as Duke Street.
Upon the first house in the street, that at the south corner of Kent Street, for many years, just beneath the parapet which surmounted the front wall, was a Latin inscription in raised Roman capitals, which at various periods, as some of the letters became obliterated by their great exposure to the weather, and from their restoration not being effected with promptitude, underwent several changes, as, Excitat acta robur, strength awakens action, i.e., the consciousness of power arouses men to acts; Excitas actis robur, thou awakest strength by deeds; Excitat actis robur, he arouses to strength by acts; Excitas acta, robur, thou wakest or excitest to deeds or actions, O strength. Its last appearance, Excitus acta ropat,—which defied all efforts of translation,—being the cause of much ridicule, the letters were entirely removed. Immediately opposite this house, suspended from the Cliff, was the town fire-cage, constructed of iron hoops, wherein, at night, a fire of strombolum—collected along the sea shore,—and common coal, was generally kindled, as a guide to the fishermen on their return to shore. On New Year’s Day, 1810, a horrid act of brutal violence was committed in connexion with this land-mark: Two men, named Rolfe and Barton, who were engaged to attend to the fire, having some words in the course of the evening, Rolfe determined to arrange the beacon by himself, and therefore procured a new iron frame and suspended it accordingly. This, however, he had no sooner done than Barton attempted to cut the fastenings and let it over the Cliff, and as Rolfe endeavoured to prevent his carrying his ill-natured design into effect, Barton thrust a knife into his abdomen, and literally let out some of his bowels. Barton escaped, but a reward of £20 being offered through the Town Crier, he was captured, but only suffered a short imprisonment, as Rolfe, after having endured great pain, eventually recovered.
The events connected with the King’s Head have been detailed in Chapter XVIII. The low, stone-coloured, brick building immediately opposite this hostelry, was the favourite residence of Mrs. Thrale, the wife of the wealthy owner of the London Brewery, now known as “Barclay and Perkins’s Brewery.” Amongst the general visitors to Mrs. Thrale were Dr. Samuel Johnson and Madame D’Arblay—Fanny Burney—the authoress of Evelena, who in one of her letters—Madame d’Arblay’s Diary—describes the residence as being at the court end of the town, and exactly opposite the inn where Charles II. lay hid previous to leaving the kingdom. “So I fail not,” she adds, “to look at it with loyal satisfaction, and His black-wigged Majesty has from the time of its restoration been its sign.” Mrs. Thrale, who upon her second marriage was Madame Piozzi, the mother of Mrs. Mostyn, who died recently at Sillwood House, has her name thus recorded in the parish book—
February 16th, 1791.—On application of Mrs Thrale, it is ordered that a poor boy proposed by her be received into the Poor House, during the pleasure of the officers, on being paid by the said Mrs Thrale 4s weekly for his board.
It happened upon one occasion that while Dr. Johnson was visiting the Thrales, he accompanied them to the Baths,—those on the site where Brill’s Ladies’ Swimming Bath now stands,—at which public lounge he met the Vicar, the Rev. Henry Michell, with whom, drawing their chairs close to the fire in the ante-room, he soon got into conversation. For some time their manner was calm and their language subdued; but at length some strong difference arising in their arguments, the Vicar seized the poker, and the Doctor the tongs, with which, upon the grate they suited “their action to the word” with the utmost energy. The general company present, who were enjoying a country dance, suddenly ceased their evolutions, which could not be resumed till the Master of the Ceremonies, Wade, with his proverbial politeness, pacified the heated debaters.
The water from a wooden pump at Thrale’s house, was supposed to be endowed with peculiar medicinal properties, from the circumstance that after his too potent night indulgences in wine, Dr. Johnson was accustomed early the following morning—before the family were about,—to slip down stairs in his dressing gown, and doffing his wig, require of the female domestic to pump freely on his over-heated bald head. Mr. Hargraves, apothecary, who afterwards occupied the premises, being aware of the Doctor’s infallible restorative after his potations, strongly, in the way of business, prescribed the marvellous liquid to customers who had been too devout at the shrine of Bacchus.