The 20th century had dawned just a few short years ago. Their son was a young teenager, so M. and Mme Léon, in Bordeaux, decided that it was high time for their lad, Léon, to perfect his English. The family was very internationally minded. They knew that Brighton already had an excellent reputation for good schools. Its climate was healthy and its Jewish community was thriving.
“Ah”, said M. Léon, “there is a school in Hove that would do very well.” So he sent off a letter of enquiry to 14 Lansdowne Place in Hove. Alas, it came to M. Léon’s ears that this school, run by a Frenchman and his English wife, was very, very small and that it had changed address several times over the previous few years. This did not bode well. The Léons looked elsewhere. Then they remembered that a few years previously, they had seen an advert in the “Jewish Chronicle” for a school in Brighton. This looked more like what they wanted:
Until early 1909 there was not one single hall or theatre in Brighton dedicated to moving pictures. Patrons could see “exhibitions” of animated images as part of a variety performance or as a novelty on the Palace Pier or the Alhambra on Kings Road.
The first “cinema” in Brighton was the Electric Bioscope Theatre in Western Road, just a few yards from the corner of Montpelier Road (where Waitrose stands in 2023). It opened on Saturday 13 February and was immediately successful. The Pathé film of the disastrous 1910 floods in Paris was one of the myriad of French films shown in Brighton before the outbreak of the Great War.
A postcard showing an image that might have been seen in an early version of the Pathé newsreels which were a staple of British cinema until the 1970s. Wikimedia Commons
When Albert Millaud boarded the ferry in Dieppe bound for Newhaven he found that: sur le bateau où je me suis embarqué, tout le monde était anglaise. [everyone on my boat was English.]
Paddle Steamer Alexandra sailed the Dieppe-Newhaven route from 1863 until 1883. Millaud would have travelled on P.S. Alexandra or P.S. Paris. Image courtesy of “Our Newhaven” / Derek Longly / Del White.
School-friends Jemima and Annabel are swapping their experiences of a new invention.
Saturday, 4th July, 1896
My Dearest Jemima,
How I love being on holiday in Brighton! We’re staying in Mr Hockley’s boarding house on the corner of Preston Street and my room has a view of the sea and the West Pier. Everything is so exciting but last night was really special. I cut out the advertisement for you from the Brighton Gazette on Thursday. Mother, Father and I just had to go and see what it was all about.
When John Basil Cartland walked out of his front door and down the steps of his home at 11 Powis Square, Brighton on Monday 12 March 1973, he was not to know that within six days he was to be brutally murdered in France.
When John Sebastian Glouton died in at 98 Western Road, Brighton in 1864, he was described as “a very plain and unpretending man, possessing a kind and genial nature.” He was much more complex than that. Forget the unfortunate name of Glouton [Glutton]. Monsieur Glouton was a highly intelligent man and reputedly a brilliant teacher. Alas, he was no businessman.
For four days in 2022, part of the Unitarian Church in New Road, Brighton became a little bit of France. Look hard and you will see the “writing on the door”. On a background of the French tricolore is the single word Élections.
Sunday 10 April was the day of the first round of the French les présidentielles [presidential election]. The several thousand French voters in the Brighton area and wider afield (postcodes BN, PO and SO) seemed to have preferred to stay in bed.
Only 25% of those registered to vote in Brighton voted. Few came to Brighton. Not surprising. Many roads were closed for the Brighton marathon and movement around the city was difficult. Of the 25%, some had already voted by post; a very large number had opted to vote via Internet. Several Brighton residents were registered to vote at polling stations in other parts of the UK (London, Belfast, Birmingham, Bristol, Manchester and Leeds, Aberdeen, Edinburgh or Glasgow). Perhaps more significantly, there were 12 candidates on the list. No one candidate was likely to take an outright win. Voters would have to return to les urnes [the ballot box] for le deuxième tour [second round].
That was indeed the case: in the first round, Emmanuel Macron (of La république en marche – a “centrist- liberal” party) gained the support of 44% of that small band of voters, followed a considerable way behind by left-winger Jean-Luc Mélenchon (24%).
Environmentalist Yannick Jadot came third in the ballot with a respectable 9%. (Brighton is, of course, noted for its “Green thinking” population) Finally came the two extreme right-wingers: Eric Zemmour and Marine Le Pen (both around 4%).
The second round of voting was a run-off between incumbent president, Emmanuel Macron, and Marine Le Pen. On April 24 just over one third (34%) of local eligible French voters cast their vote. And there was no doubt about their decision: M. Macron clocked in at just over 88% while Mme Le Pen trailed far behind at just under 9%. Pity the poor French voters in our area. No sooner had they been asked to turn out for les présidentielles than on 12 June they were invited to come and vote in les législatives [parliamentary elections].
North-west Europe sends one député [M.P.] to the French Assemblée Nationale [lower house of parliament / House of Commons].
The first round of voting attracted less than 3% of local French voters into Brighton in person. It is not surprising, then, that two of the 12 candidates received 0% votes at the Brighton polling station. And back again the voters had to come on 19 June for the second round. This time nearly 5% of them came to do their civic duty (bearing in mind that the majority had a postal or internet vote). And surprise, surprise, many of the roads were again closed – this time for the British Heart Foundation London-Brighton Bike Ride.
In the second round, the incumbent, Alexandre Holroyd , a close ally of M. Macron, was opposed by Charlotte Minvielle of Europe Écologie Les Verts [a Green party]. Alexandre Holroyd kept his seat. But no thanks to voters in Brighton. Nor to those in any other of the nations which form the 3rdcirconscription [constituency].
French voters in Copenhagen, Dublin, Edinburgh, Helsinki, Oslo, Reykjavík, Riga, Stockholm, Tallin and Vilnius all gave Mme Minvielle a majority – Reykjavik massively at 75% as opposed to a mere 25% for M. Holroyd. “London” (i.e. all the English polling stations) voted overwhelmingly for M. Holroyd (60%). And “London” has, of course, far more French voters than practically all the other constituent nations combined (31,000 as against, for example, 97 in Riga).
However, these statistics hide what happened in Brighton. In the second round, Charlotte Minvielle outstripped Alexandre Holroyd. She won 54% des voix [of the votes] to 42% for the sitting member. Again, Brighton’s “Green” credentials came to the fore.
So what would greet you as you walked into the Unitarian Church Hall? Smiling faces and a relaxed atmosphere. A good start.
Next you will spot la table de décharge [the issuing table]. On the table are the registers of voters, a pile of envelopes and two piles of cards. Today, for the deuxième tourdes législatives, one pile contains blue and white cards. They are those bearing the name of Alexandre Holroyd. The other pile is of green and white cards. They have Charlotte Minville’s name on them.
After showing a form of identity, you will be allowed to pick up one card from each pile and a blue envelope (which will be the identical shape or colour whether you are in Oslo, Paris, Nouméa, Fort-de-France or Canberra – Vive Napoléon and uniformity).
[Note: if there are 12 candidates, as is often the case in a first round of elections, there will be 12 identically sized cards, each card with the name of one candidate. Voters must pick up a minimum of two cards and up to a maximum of however many candidates there are.]
Next you will move into an isoloire [voting booth]. It is very unlike the very casual and largely open British booths. You would do well not to suffer from claustrophobia. Once inside, you will choose one card (and one card only, otherwise you spoil your vote), put it into the envelope and leave you hidey-hole.
When I started work in October 1974 as the part-time French teacher at Davies’s College in Cromwell Road, Hove, all I knew of my predecessor was that she was called Thyra Creke-Clark and had died suddenly the previous July. According to the Principal of the college she had been “a formidable woman”
Once they became mined out, the underground quarries of Caen stone generally presented no problems. They were excellent for producing mushrooms on a commercial basis. However, with pressure to build for an expanding population in the mid-20th century, many of the voids had to be filled in before building could take place. Several quarries, however, played an important and very positive role in the 1940s. During the bombardment of Caen by the Allies in 1944 these quarries provided safe refuge.
Refugees (including dogs) from Allied bombing on Caen in June 1944. Image courtesy of “Le Parisien” newspaper.
Although nearly 2000 inhabitants of the city died within two months of the D-Day landings on 6 June, many hundreds more owed their lives to the redundant quarries where their forefathers may have worked for many generations before them.