“The houses were strange in Artillery Street, tall, dim and smelly, all slums. It is a shame though they are not there anymore. Nearly every street I lived in Brighton has gone. Although they were slum areas they were happy areas. Quite a few men down the street worked at Tamplin’s brewery; it was a busy little street. Down the bottom was Russell Street which was quite a busy little thoroughfare because it separated West Street from Artillery Street. There was St Paul’s Church which is still there, and the Odeon and the ice rink. Around the clock tower the pie man was a familiar sight, he used to stand on the corner of Aire Street. He had a funny little black oven on a barrow with iron wheels and he would heat the pies up for you; there were also hot chestnuts for sale. We did any kind of money-making thing that we could do. We would walk right out to Stanmer Park, pick loads of bluebells and primroses and tie them on a stick and come back up Western Road and sell them like two little waifs. We were always doing something.”

Leave Churchill Square, originally Artillery Street, through Imperial Arcade. Cross Dyke Road and cut through Air Street turning left to walk up Queens Road. Cross the road and turn right into Church Street.

“I was born at 41 Windsor Buildings in 1924. Windsor Buildings runs between North Street and Church Street, and the Buildings were a large block of flats near the North Street end. Number 41 was a one bedroomed flat on the top floor. There was one room where you lived and cooked; and a bedroom and a toilet. There was no bathroom, and you had to go to North Road Public Baths for a bath. … There was a big Gothic building that I think was the Central School. It was a shame that it was pulled down, because they only used the land as a car park. After Preece’s Buildings, there was a haberdashery shop, a chemist, and ‘The Film Star Shoe Shop’ where they had all the latest fashions. As children we would sit on the steps of the Regent Ballroom, and watch the celebrities go in with their lovely dresses and fur coats.”

Walk down Church Street on the left-hand side, passing the narrow entrance between Gardner Street and Regent Street to the former cul-de-sac of Preece’s Buildings opposite Dockerills.

“My parents were tenants in Preece’s Buildings in the 1930s. Preece’s Buildings were in a cul-de-sac between Gardner Street and Regent Street with a narrow entrance in Church Street. There was a solicitor’s office, a baker, approximately ten cottages and two communal washhouses on the left hand side of the lane, and the toilets were opposite the houses looking on to Regent Street. Cottage no. 12 was at right angles to the other cottages and completed the cul-de-sac, and faced down the lane to Church Street. There were no gardens or bathrooms, so most people used the public baths in North Road.”

From here, turn into Jubilee Street. 

“I am seventy five years of age, and lived at number 36 Jubilee Street from 1917-1930, two doors from Shoesmith’s, the corn merchants, who stabled their horses under the steps, though there were flats above. Six of us lived in the house; two sisters, two brothers, my niece, Mum and Dad and me. There was a builder called Dumbrell’s, then another pub, the Crown Shades. They used to have a fight every Saturday night, mostly the women fought, not the men. They would be tearing one another’s hair out, and you can imagine trying to hold them back! None of the houses had front gardens, but they had nice window ledges jutting out over the pavement, so people who were drunk used to sit on the window sill to sober up; my mother would go in the top bedroom and throw water over them. There was often a bit of a skirmish, but they were no bother to anybody; the police used to come up and stand at the end of the road, and it all used to die down. I remember one night my mum made a dreadful mistake; a policeman was having a rest on the window ledge, she thought it was a drunk so she threw water over him!”

From Jubilee Street, turn right into North Road. Turn left onto Vine Street and then right onto Gloucester Road. Turn left into Gloucester Passage, passing through the passage into Gloucester Street. Turn right into Gloucester Street, and then left into St George’s Mews.

“Opposite Gloucester Terrace, in Gloucester Street, was a grocers where you could take a cup and get a pennyworth of jam or a pennyworth of syrup straight from wooden barrels. There was very little tinned stuff altogether, the only food I can remember in tins was pineapple, sardines and tins of biscuits at Christmas. Every-body had fly papers hanging up in those days, they were a penny each and when you bought them they were in a roll with a bit of string on top. You held them over the heat, and as they got warm you pulled them out, then hung them up. They were sticky and the flies were attracted to them.”

Turn right into Trafalgar Street, and cross the busy A23 safely to Richmond Place before turning left into Albion Street. Look out for Nos. 4, 5 & 6 which all still stand.

“Thomas Packham, my great great grandfather, was living at 7 Albion Street in 1839 when it was a drayman’s store belonging to Tamplin’s Brewery. He had arrived some ten years earlier from Lewes with a sack on his back and eleven pence in his pocket, hoping to make a better living in Brighton. By 1851 the family had moved to Number 4 Albion Street which still exists. Thomas would have known the patio as a backyard where his wife hung out the washing and laboured over the tub on sunny days. The rest of the washing would have been strung across the street. Harriet, his daughter aged twenty-two, did ‘flat trimming’, while sixteen year old Eliza helped with the ironing. Young Charlotte, aged fourteen was a nursemaid.”

Turn left onto Richmond Parade, crossing the road to the passage leading to Ivory Place.

“When I was around twelve months of age we moved to my maternal grandparents’ house in Ivory Place. My grandfather was a fisherman; fisherfolk families in those days were invariably large and it was not uncommon for uncles, cousins, and nephews to have the same Christian names. Therefore for identification purposes nicknames (which usually referred to an individual and physical appearance) were used. The living to be earned from fishing in those days was precarious to say the least. Fishermen were away from home much of the time, because it was the practice to follow the herring and mackerel shoals as they moved down the Channel, and land the catches wherever, until it was time to return to Brighton. In the meantime the fishermen’s families had been living on credit, sometimes the earnings only just covered the credit. My grandfather eventually gave up fishing and became a coach painter at Lancing Carriage works. Unlike some, I cannot say that I look back on those days with any affection. The memories I have are of being damned cold in winter, suffering chilblained ears which bled, having rickets through my poor diet and certainly not being over protected by my parents.”

Turn right into Morley Street and then left into Circus Street. Turn left into Kingswood Street and then right into William Street. Turn right onto Edward Street and cross the road at the pedestrian crossing.

“My mother’s family had a shop at the bottom of Edward Street called ‘Hughes’ which was a saddle and shoe makers. My mother had been born at a beer house called ‘The Little Wonder’ and she and her sister Min would dance on the counter for the customers. Her maiden name was Wink. The one memory that holds in my mind is the sight and sound of childrens’ bare feet flapping on the ground, something that I have not heard since. Many men drank heavily, including my uncle, but often this was the only escape from poverty and deprivation.”

Walk down Edward Street and turn left into Prince’s Street towards the Old Steine. Turn right at St. James’ Street, and head towards the sea, crossing the Steine towards the YHA building. Turn right and cut through the pedestrian alley called Avenue, crossing East Street into Bartholomews.

Follow the road past the Town Hall into Prince Albert Street, turning left into Black Lion Street. Follow a narrow alley, Black Lion Lane, between the Cricketer’s and Black Lion pubs. At the end of Black Lion Lane cross over Ship Street into another alley, Ship Street Gardens. This lane emerges opposite an entrance between 18 and 19 Middle Street to the former cul-de-sac of Hayllar’s Cottages.

“1-5 Hayllar’s Cottages

Dear Sir, It appears that on the 25th July 1935, the Council by resolution decided to acquire the above property under a Compulsory Purchase Order for the clearance of the site as a slum area.
This subject of an Enquiry held by the Ministry of Health on the 4th December 1935, and on the 5th June 1936, notice to treat was served on the owners.

After prolonged negotiations in March of this year the property was eventually purchased by the Corporation at the sum of £575. In September of this year the Corporation intimated to the late owner’s agent that they had no immediate use for this site, and would be prepared to resell it, and as a result of negotiations the property was offered to the previous owner (from whom in March the Corporation had compulsorily acquired it for £575) for the sum of £1100.

No doubt there is some good reason for the matter being dealt with in this way, but I cannot understand how the Corporation came to purchase these premises for demolition at the price of £575 and expect in six months time to resell the bare site to the same owners for the sum of £1100. Will you kindly bring this matter to the notice of the appropriate Committee, with the request that they kindly supply me with the reason for this site being dealt with in this manner.

Yours faithfully, B. Dutton Briant.”

Turn right up Middle Street and then left onto Boyce’s Street. Turn right onto West Street, crossing over the road where safe. The entrance to Churchill Square car park leads to Grenville Street which is now a delivery route. 

“My father had a business in Grenville Place, fruiterer and greengrocer. He was there from 1918, and when he died in 1950 the business was still there, until the corporation more or less pinched it off me around 1960. That was when they made compulsory purchase orders of all the property along there. Then they built Churchill Square. It’s not the same now. Everybody was neighbourly. Having a business you knew everyone, they all knew you and would speak to you, but you don’t see a soul now. You may only see your next door neighbour sometimes. It’s surprising when you move. I think business makes a great difference, people know you better then. There were all sorts of businesses down there. In Russell Street was a small boot maker; he lived at number 37 and had a little business on the corner of Russell Street as it bends round. Then on the other side was a small coal merchants by the name of West; it was only a small place, but I think they used to go and get winkles, and they would sell them at sixpence a pint.”

You have now completed this walk.