The Brighton of my Boyhood 



where on the hills ; and one shuddered to 

 think what that mi^ht mean, ever since the 

 smugglers had whipped one wretched ex- 

 ciseman to death in Lady Holt Park, and 

 thrown his comrade down the well with his 

 eyes gouged out. 



In those days, before the Pavilion had 

 become a third-rate museum and was still a 

 second-rate palace, Brighton did not lack 

 liveliness. The Master of the Ceremonies 

 kept up a round of balls, concerts, card- 

 assemblies, and other polite entertain- 

 ments throucrhout the season. To these 

 the Brighton townsfolk and visitors were 

 admitted on payment of a certain sum, and 

 on condition of wearinof such-and-such a 

 dress, specified by the M.C. himself. Many 

 of these functions took place in the ball- 

 room of the Castle Tavern, a very gor- 

 geous place in the eyes of Brightonians, 

 decorated, according to the curious wording 

 of the guide-book of that date, '' with 

 paintings representing Cupid and Psyche 

 and divers other figures in the ancient 

 grotesque style." They afforded a wel- 

 come opportunity for every Tom, Dick, 

 and Harry who could borrow the price of 

 the ticket, to rub shoulders with titled folk, 

 and sometimes with Royalty itself — an 

 opportunity seized upon with no less 

 19 



