Get thee back to FRANCE Tales of a real-life French invasion of Brighton as recounted by local historian and author, Nils Visser 32 | sussexexclusive.com
Clockwise: British Napoleonic re-enactors (dreamstime.com) © Alejandro Montecatine, © Martin Brayley Prince of Wales (later George IV), ca. 1798 Nils Visser © Corin Spinks Nixon Martha Gunn Get Thee Back to France Closeup As author of short stories, novellas, and novels set in <strong>Sussex</strong> I’m always on the lookout for anything weird and wonderful to adapt for my stories. Needless to say, <strong>Sussex</strong> has plenty on offer. One of my favourites by far is one that sounds so far-fetched that it begs to be relegated to the status of urban myth, namely a simulated “French” invasion of Brighton. Fear of revolutionary France was rife in the 1790s. An invasion wasn’t a wholly unrealistic prospect, and one for which Britain was poorly prepared. One Briton, however, simply couldn’t wait for such excitement to happen, namely one George Augustus Frederick Hanover. He would later ascend the throne as King George IV, but at the time of this tale he was still the Prince of Wales, affectionately known as “Prinny” in Brighton. His extravagant lifestyle and fondness of dubious entertainments did much to set the tone of social life in Brighton, where he was also dubbed “The Prince of Pleasure”. The Prince of Pleasure was fond of military pageants. Later, as Prince Regent, he would reenact famous Wellington victories in London’s Hyde Park, but in the 1790s he had to make do with more modest affairs. Like a French invasion of Brighton. Too impatient to wait for a real invasion, Prinny ordered two battalions of the British Army to Brighton beach, and a temporary stand built from where he could observe the proceedings with guests. One battalion, from Northumbria, was dressed up in blue coats and armed with mock training stocks instead of real muskets. They were landed ashore by the Royal Navy. The other battalion, in their own red coats, was to march through Brighton and arrive in the nick of time in order to heroically repulse the French invasion. This second battalion wasn’t local either and unfamiliar with Brighton. Instead of marching to the beach, they headed west toward Shoreham, inadvertently bypassing the “invasion” altogether. The “French” army duly landed on the beach and assembled in formation, but there wasn’t a redcoat to be seen, leading to much confused shouting. Now the common folk from the Lanes hadn’t been told about Prinny’s grand plans. All they knew, was that a great many soldiers in blue coats had landed on the beach. They couldn’t make head nor tail of the Northumbrian dialect, and concluded that these strange soldiers speaking “furrin” must indeed be the muchdreaded French. The word spread like wildfire in the Lanes: The French are invading! Being properly patriotic, the common Lanesfolk mobilised, grabbing whatever was to hand – mostly tools of their trades – and storming out of the Lanes and onto the beach, led by none other than the famous Queen of the Dippers, Martha Gunn, formidable still at eighty-seven years old, and wielding a broomstick. It was, of course, an incredibly brave thing to do, because the Lanesfolk assumed they would be tackling real French soldiers armed with loaded muskets and bayonets. The blue-coated Northumbrians took one look at the charging Lanesfolk and fled into the surf, hollering at the Royal Navy boats – rowing back to their ships – to come back and pick them up. The Lanesfolk reached the “French” soldiers where they were able to scramble into the boats and gave them a proper “bannicking” (broad <strong>Sussex</strong> dialect for beating). It was reported that Martha Gunn picked up an officer by the scruff of his neck, lifted him in the air, and then gave him a knockout punch, shouting, “Get thee back to France!”. Prinny was delighted and cheered the Lanesfolk on, afterwards insisting that Martha Gunn was introduced to him. Looking further into this remarkable event, I found a logical explanation for the whole affair. In 1794, John Colley Nixon produced an illustration showing Martha Gunn and other women beating back a “French” invasion of Brighton, as a satirical comment on the lack of national preparedness for such a calamity. The illustration, it was said, subsequently led to the invention of the urban myth. However, it’s likely that Nixon based his illustration on an actual incident. In his The Brighton Garrison, historian Roy Christopher Grant relates that the “battle” took place during Easter exercises near Brighton. The Prince of Wales had indeed organised a mock invasion of Brighton by British troops dressed as French soldiers. These troops hailed from the north of England. Grant told me, “Some locals heard them speaking in a funny dialect, assumed they were French, and a battle ensued.” Grant points out that the two men hiding in the bathing machines in Nixon’s illustration were caricatures of the two British Generals Sheridan and Fox, “who were fully aware that the ‘invaders’ weren’t French and were much amused by the whole event.” As they say elsewhere in <strong>Sussex</strong>, there be something of everything and everything of something in Brighton. Although that isn’t necessarily intended as a compliment, it cannot be denied that courage and bravery were amongst those Brighton qualities on that bizarre day back in the 1790s. 33
Change language