Mozart (1756-1791) - The Magic Flute: an Allegory of Austrian Optimism

Mozart 1780 by Johann Nepomuk della Croce Public Domain

Through the darkness of ignorance, we struggle against the evil of falsehead. Only the transforming light, leading to wisdom, will bring us happiness.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's two-act opera, The Magic Flute, composed in the late eighteenth century, was intended as an allegory related to Austrian Freemasonry, with the Queen of the Night representing Maria Theresa, who became the first Empress of Austria. Despite this, there is little doubt that its fairy-tale aspects are the result of Enlightenment optimism. The word "magic", which appears in the title, is a word that conjures hope and happiness, and the flute is a fairy-tale instrument.

How cunning of Mozart, I feel, to set such a strong piece of irony, using allegory, against an escapist background. Perhaps Mozart intended that the message could be delivered, most fittingly, by first misleading the audience, and by trading on its appetite for a hopeful, magical escape into light and joy. Maybe, the great composer simply traded on the mood of the time, in order to achieve recognition, although I accept this may be a fanciful suggestion.

Mozart Engages with the Mystical Ideas of the French Philosophes

Mozart was drawn to the "Illuminati", a radical, masonic group whose founder, Adam Weishaupt, believed in the writings of the French philosophes. Mozart was mainly attracted to its mysticism, and to its emphasis on tolerance and brotherhood. For example, Tamino speaks of the "Temple of Wisdom"... "these columns prove that wisdom, industry and art reside here." Also, the Temple of Wisdom is sub-divided into Temples of Reason and Nature. Sarastro speaks of Tamino, who... "wishes to tear from himself the veil of night and look into the sanctuary of supreme light." He entreats Isis and Osiris to grant that spirit of wisdom to the pair.

Therefore, we have a simple tale of two royal lovers who manage to overcome awful complications and evil, in order to achieve the precious goals of self-knowledge and true love.

Darkness is Ignorant and Light is Joy

In line with other Enlightenment works, the music in The Magic Flute uses high pitch and loudness to depict light and joy, but a lower, solemn, minor pitch to show how darkness equates with ignorance. The portrayal of darkness and light, and wisdom and ignorance, in The Magic Flute, does not, of course, encounter the problems of a symphony, or an oratorio, such as Haydn's The Creation. The visual stage effects which accompany the music and intensify and enhance the musical description, help the transition from darkness to light, from ignorance to wisdom, and can show us the intense drama of the journey.

The upward leaps in the music in Tamino's aria, which are meant to convey yearning or searching, are also symbolic of the Enlightenment; The search for love is an analogy of the Enlightenment search for truth. The flute itself is another symbol: "Oh, such a flute is worth more than gold or crowns, for by its power, human joy and contentment will be increased." This shows a turning away from materialism and into spiritual matters like love and human, spiritual happiness.

The essence of the Enlightenment is summed up in Sarastro's lines in the Finale. "The rays of the sun drive out the night and destroy the hypocrite's false power." In these powerful words, we have the concept, yet again, of light over darkness and the destruction of the power of falsehood, which lies at the centre of evil.

Sources:

• Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, The Magic Flute, First Performed in December, 1791.
• The Enlightenment - An Anthology, The Open University, Milton Keynes, 1990.

Brighton Argus on Victorian Contempt for Mannish Women

Public Domain Old Postcard Wikimedia Origin Unknown

Bicycle-riding, divided-skirt, short-haired, cigarette-smoking mannish women - how dare they model themselves on men, on their physique and independence! 

On 19 June, 1895, an article appeared in the Brighton's Argus newspaper entitled "Women Past or Present." The article consisted of a scathing attack, which was a comparison of the current modern woman with "our grandmothers." The author, an upper-class Victorian lady, gives full vent to her fury.

Author, Lady Greville, says that she has great contempt for the mannish women of the day, who should look to the women of the past for a lesson in ladylike behaviour.

"Many women have wished they had been born men, with man's physique, his independence, his strengths, his advantages and capabilities, but surely no sensible woman could wish to resemble an emasculated man, or what is commonly called a masculine female? To be advanced nowadays means to have thrown every shred of femininity to the wind, to ignore tradition, heredity, all the teachings of science and most of the lessons of experience."

Academic Excellence of Women Past

Most of the article emphasises the academic excellence of woman of the past. What it doesn't mention, is that this "excellence" depended largely on the privileges gained by a few women with access to money and to education. Since Lady Greville is protecting a point of view, she deliberately ignores this disparity. Instead she asserts that women's rebellion in the present day was found in the "sturm and drang" of life.

"Sturm and drang" means "storm and impulse," a popular German movement in literature and music which ran from 1760 to 1780. This movement was in favour of the free expression of emotion, and was intended to counter the rationalism of the Enlightenment.

Bicycle-Riding, Divided Skirt, Short-Haired, Cigarette-Smoking Mannish Women

Lady Greville continues her tirade:

"The bicycle-riding, divided-skirt, short-haired, cigarette-smoking females of today may feel themselves immensely free and congratulate themselves on their immunity from the shackles of conventionality, but is their triumph so great, is it not easily discounted when we sit down soberly and ask what it has gained in the sum of human happiness?"

Then Lady Greville roundly emphasises the "disabilities of women including stays and tears" which, she said, could not be discarded so lightly, leaving only cynicism, unreality, revolt and discontent.

Two of Lady Greville's "mannish" contemporaries were Angela Burdett-Coutts (1814-1906) a lesbian philanthropist and Harriett Rowell, also known as Miss Elphinstone-Dick, (1858-1902) who taught swimming in Brighton in the 1870s before emigrating to Australia with her lover.

Sources:

• Lady Greville "Women Past and Present" The Argus, Brighton, 19 June 1895.
• Adapted from: Cameron, Janet, LGBT Brighton and Hove, Amberley Publishing, 2010.

Percy Lefroy Mapleton Commits a Shocking Outrage on the Brighton Line

The news broke in the Brighton Guardian on Wednesday 29 June 1881 with the headline: SHOCKING OUTRAGE ON THE BRIGHTON LINE. The paper speculated on this terrible crime committed in the early evening of the previous Monday morning, described as a crime ‘enshrouded in mystery’.

            'Isaac Frederick Gold, a coin dealer of 64 years lived at ‘Titchfield’, 26 Claremont Terrace. On 27 June 1881, the unfortunate businessman set off homeward on the London to Brighton express train. At this stage, no one knew much about what actually happened, except that the train stopped at Preston Park, where a ticket collector, Arthur Gibson, joined the train.

On opening a first class carriage, Arthur found a young man inside, besmeared with blood and showing signs of having had a struggle with someone. The young man told Arthur Gibson that he and another man, Mr. Gold had had a fearful encounter with a man on the train, but the man had succeeded in making his escape. The stationmaster, Mr. Hall, sent the ticket collector with the young man to Brighton, where the other stationmaster, Mr. Henry Anscombe, was ready to receive him. A gold chain was attached to Lefroy’s shoe, which he said he had put there ‘for safety’.

            At this time, although the police were a little suspicious, they decided that the young man, Percy Lefroy Mapleton had not committed a crime against another person. More likely, they’d decided, he had been trying to commit suicide, itself a criminal offence. Even after the discovery of the blackened body of the unfortunate coin dealer subsequently taken from Balcombe Tunnel and moved to a shed adjoining the Railway Arms Hotel at Balcombe, the police still took no action against Percy Lefroy, and he remained the only person who knew what had really happened to Isaac Frederick Gold.

A Deliberate Act of Evil

That fateful morning, occupying the smoking compartment of a first class carriage, (the third carriage of the train), Mr. Gold was later jointed by 21 year-old Percy Lefroy Mapleton. Isaac Gold wasn’t to know that this innocuous looking man had set out that morning determined to rob any poor wretch he could find. Having failed to carry out his devious plan at London Bridge, he’d decided to catch the 2.00pm train to Brighton. Once he set his sights on Mr. Gold, he must have thought it was his lucky day. Sometime, between London and Brighton, Percy Lefroy Mapleton stabbed Isaac Gold to death and stole his watch and some gold coins. When he got to Preston Park, he was seen disembarking from the carriage, blood-soaked, in a state of distress, minus his hat, collar and tie, and with a gold watch chain dragging from his shoe. He wasn’t too upset though, to convince the railway staff that he’d been attacked by two men who’d smashed him on the head and knocked him unconscious.

‘I have been murderously attacked,’ he claimed. 

Too Much Blood

Percy Lefroy Mapleton actually made a formal charge against his ‘attackers’ and offered a reward to anyone who could catch them and bring them to justice. After being interviewed by a Constable Howland and giving a description of his attackers, he went to the County Hospital. The doctors were confused thinking that the wounds were very slight yet had caused a great deal of bleeding. Percy Lefroy began to feel uneasy and invented a sudden urgent appointment in London, but first he had to go back to the police station for more interviews. The net was closing in on Percy Lefroy Mapleton, and so he went shopping to buy himself a new collar and tie and then set off for Brighton Station.

All Despite the Evidence to the Contrary

Signs of a fierce struggle in the train carriage, including blood on the floor and door handle, and a newspaper and handkerchief found in the compartment, together with three bullet marks, began to alert the police that there was something even more sinister than attempted suicide behind Percy Lefroy’s account. Further, coins similar to those found on him at the time he arrived at the Brighton Station were discovered in the compartment. Things were not looking rosy. Despite that, the police still failed to arrest him and he was escorted by a detective sergeant, George Holmes, to a boarding house run by his relatives in Wallington in Surrey.

            By now a search of the London to Preston Park Railway had been instigated and in due course the blackened body of an elderly man was found in Balcombe Tunnel. It proved, indeed, to be the stabbed corpse of Isaac Frederick Gold. It was a particularly brutal attack. The victim had a deep stab wound in his eye and his face was cut to the bone, gashed from the right ear to the lower jaw and his throat was cut. It appeared the attack took place in Merstham Tunnel and thrown out of the carriage at Balcombe. A knife was found not far from the body and this, too, was covered in blood. His watch, chain and money were all missing so the Station Master at Balcombe immediately alerted the police by telegram. 

            That night, Mrs. Gold was told and she left Preston at 10.30pm with Mr. Holes, a neighbour, on the fast train. Mr. Holes did the identification, as Mrs. Gold was unequal to this painful task.

Time for Action – at Last

After the Three Bridges Railway Station stationmaster had informed Det. Sergeant Holmes about the discovery of the body, the detective was told by the Brighton Police to keep Percy Lefroy Mapleton within his sights. The detective was not, it seems, all that bright because when Lefroy Mapleton asked him to wait outside while he changed his clothes. D.S. Holmes agreed and, of course, the cunning murderer made his escape. The Press were asked to help find him by the Director of the CID. The Daily Telegraph made the following appeal with a description, (as reproduced with grateful thanks to Wikipedia and verified) 

‘Aged 22, middle height, very thin, sickly appearance, scratches on throat, wounds on head, probably clean-shaved, low felt hat, black coat, teeth much discoloured… He is very round shouldered, and his thin overcoat hangs in awkward folds about his spare figure. His forehead and chin are both receding. He has a slight moustache, and very small dark whiskers. His jawbones are prominent, his cheeks sunken and sallow, and his teeth fully exposed when laughing. His upper lip is thin and drawn inwards. His eyes are grey and large. His gait is singular; he is inclined to slouch and when not carrying a bag, his left hand is usually in his pocket. He generally carries a crutch stick.’ 

            In addition to this description, the paper printed an artist’s impression. This resulted in plethora of false claims by people convinced they had spotted the murderer.

The Inquest on Isaac Gold

The Coroner was Wynne Edwin Baxter, who opened the inquest on Isaac Gold on 29 June 1881 and the proceedings lasted several days. The police officers involved in the case including Det. Sergeant Holmes, were soundly castigated for their inefficiency and a verdict of wilful murder was returned on Percy Lefroy Mapleton. As a result the Railway Company offered a handsome reward for his capture.

Capture

Lefroy Mapleton had found himself lodgings at a house at 32 Smith Street, Stepney giving an alias of ‘Park’. The murderer had sent a telegram to his employer for the forwarding of his salary and this was his undoing, negating his precautions of keeping the blinds drawn and only venturing out after dark. When the police entered the premises, they discovered his bloodstained clothes, but he refused to talk except to deny his guilt.

The Trial

Before the Lord Chief Justice at Maidstone Assizes, Lefroy Mapleton was found guilty within ten minutes after the jury retired, after evidence from witnesses from the Railway company and the police. A woman said she had seen two men struggling in the train as it passed her home. The evidence against him was more than enough for a firm conviction.

            Lefroy Mapleton had needed money and only intended to rob someone at London Bridge, preferably a female who would be an easier target. Since there was no victim suitable, he’d attacked Isaac Gold. Despite his penury, he managed to appear in Court in full evening dress, hoping to impress the jury, including wearing a silk hat, no doubt he found it fitting since he was the godson of Sir John Lefroy, Governor of Tasmania.

Final Moments

Percy Lefroy Mapleton was hanged at Lewes on 29 November 1881 by William Marwood. According to an eyewitness account (with grateful thanks for a reproduction from the Daily Telegraph of 30 November, 1881, on the excellent www.mytimemachine.co.uk website, editor Mark Crail), Marwood took great pride in his work. He placed the leather belt around the murderer’s body and fastened his elbows and wrists, leaving his neck bare. It was almost nine o’clock, the clergyman was ready and two warders on hand, one either side of the condemned man. Everyone was waiting, the sheriff and the governor of the jail, the magistrate and the surgeon. Lefroy Mapleton may have worn his best evening garb for his trial but for his execution he was just a poor young man in an old grey tweed suit, tightly pinioned, with bruised wrists and hair disarranged. He was unshaven and with a ghastly pallor. The ‘terrors of death’ were particularly noticeable,’ reports the eyewitness, and continues: ‘He could scarcely take the step which was to place him where he had never stood before and from where he would never step again, and Marwood, who at no instant let go of the belt, was fain once more to push him forward.’

Marwood placed the prisoner under the cross tree. As he took up his position beneath the fatal beam with the assistance of Marwood, Percy Lefroy asked, ‘Will the rope break?’ The executioner simply replied, ‘No.’ Then Marwood had to stoop to secure his legs and then he placed the white cap over the victim’s face. The rope was adjusted and the thimble, through which the rope ran, placed beneath his neck. As the hood went over his head, Lefroy Mapleton lifted up his head, his lips moving as though in prayer. As the clergyman prayed, the lever was pulled back, the trap opened and the victim fell into the vault below, his neck immediately broken. Despite the suddenness of death, the eyewitness felt the preparations had been cruelly prolonged. ‘It was a tedious and horrible form of execution,’ he concluded. The coffin, according to the eyewitness, was a perfect fit. Lefroy Mapleton had been measured for it and placed in it, just to make sure, a few minutes before his execution.

At the Whim of the Executioner

Marwood, Percy Lefroy Mapleton’s executioner, used the long-drop method and death was instantaneous. Some executioners, for example, the notorious William Calcraft (1800-1879) preferred to make a proper spectacle of their handiwork for their own twisted satisfaction and the delectation of their admirers. Calcraft used the short-drop method and made his victims ‘dance’ for him and some of them took several minutes to die by slow strangulation instead of the broken neck effected by the long-drop. Calcraft practised his grisly vocation from 1824 for forty-five years and was said to be very fond of children.

Footnote: William Marwood hated the press and it is claimed he once said he would die happy once he had hanged a reporter.

Execution – An Entertaining Day Out

Until 1868, when an Act of Parliament decreed that executions should take place behind the prison walls as in the case of Percy Lefroy Mapleton, a public hanging was a spectacle and a source of popular entertainment. People went to executions to enjoy themselves and have a good day out. In the first half of the nineteenth century, people were hanged for alarmingly minor offences and often these were multiple hangings. In both the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, children also suffered the death penalty for murder, arson, highway robbery and property crimes. This tragic part of our history includes two children; a boy and girl aged seven and eleven, being hanged at Kings Lynn on 18 September 1708 – for theft. So maybe, although there was still far to go, the Victorians were beginning to move towards a more compassionate and informed morality.

Note:

On 29 May 1868, the Capital Punishment within Prisons Bill was passed by Parliament to end public hangings in Britain and all future executions would be carried out behind prison walls. The last public execution in Britain was that of Michael Barrett, who’d attempted to blow up Clerkenwell Prison, killing four passers-by and injuring many more. The first private hanging was carried out at Maidstone Prison two months later when a Dover railway porter was hanged for murdering a stationmaster. (See Dover – Murder & Crime by Janet Cameron)

Sources:
Cameron, Janet, Brighton and Hove, Murders and Misdemeanours, Amberley Publishing, 2008.

Shipwrecks of Sussex - a Tragic Legacy

The Sussex Coast. What lies beneath?
Image copyright Janet Cameron

4,000 ships lie beneath Sussex seas, wrecked by jagged cliffs, sandbanks and treacherous weather. Wendy Hughes' book reveals some intriguing stories.

    

The coastline covered in Wendy Hughes' book stretches from Chichester in West Sussex, through Brighton and Hove in East Sussex, and as far as Rye; waters that have been described as "the diver's paradise." Some of the most spectacular wrecks occurred at Seven Sisters (a range of high Sussex cliffs) and also at the famous and notorious suicide spot, Beachy Head. These areas are plagued by unpredictable currents and south-westerly winds. The earliest known wreck of the Sussex coast was the Marie of Santander in 1368, and later a Dutch ship was lost in 1617 around Birling Gap.

The Battle of Beachy Head

In 1690, the British warship, the Anne was lost during the Battle of Beachy Head. The Anne was built by Charles II and launched in Chatham in 1678. She was named for the Princess Anne who lived from 1665 to 1714. The Anne sported seventy guns and In 1688, when James II fled England, William of Orange and his wife Mary arrived to claim the English throne. As William of Orange and Louis XIV of France were sworn enemies, war ensued, resulting in the famous Battle of Beachy Head. The French were victorious on this occasion - although not to any remarkable degree since the Anglo-Dutch fleet lost only lost one vessel. Unfortunately, a few more, including the Anne, had to be scuppered to keep them out of the hands of the French.

Extreme Weather Causes the Seven Ships Disaster

On Tuesday 5 December 1809, HMS Harlequin, a ship-sloop, was escorting a convoy from Plymouth to the eastern end of the English Channel, with several passengers including small children on board. Altogether, the convoy comprised twenty-three ships. The weather became turbulent and some of the heavy ships made little headway. On Wednesday evening the convoy encountered hurricane-force winds, and while temperatures plummeted, sleet and rain hindered visibility. The Harlequin did its best, firing its cannon to alert the convoy of her position. Fog rose up and thickened causing the commander, Lieutenant Anstruther, to believe the fleet had cleared treacherous Beachy Head.

The six leading vessels behind the Harlequin were the Unice, Albion, Weymouth, February, Traveller, and the Midbedacht. Eventually, all seven ships ran aground in Seaford Bay in violent surf with the howling wind ripping up the sails and masts. The vessels crashed together causing chaos. Captain Anstruther's last log entry reads: "Signal guns fired and flares to warn convoy. We have serious hull damage reports from below and mid-ships."

The rest of the ships heard the warning cannon fire and sailed unharmed past Beachy Head. Despite the chaos in the Bay, there were many acts of bravery, and everyone who could be saved was taken safely ashore by locals. The fate of each of the ships is recorded in the book.

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Some ships were simply victims of hostile world events. The First and Second World Wars claimed a number of casualties. One such victim was the Shirala, which left London on Sunday 30 June 1918, dropping anchor near Gravesend on the Thames to collected goods, ammunition and a few passengers. On 2 July - recorded as being "a perfect day" - an explosion tore the ship's port side, followed by a further hit on the starboard side. The engine room was suddenly flooded and the stricken ship sank, just five miles off Littlehampton. What is particularly ironic is that she had adopted a zig-zag route to avoid being hit by a U-boat.

A Delight for Shipping Enthusiasts

Shipwrecks of Sussex is a detailed and carefully-researched account, but not only about the disastrous and tragic loss of fine ships and human life. It also provides a fascinating glimpse into human nature and how human beings are capable of acts of great wickedness and also of extreme courage under duress.

Source:

• Shipwrecks of Sussex, Wendy Hughes, The History Press, 2011.

George and the Haunted Brighton Flat

George moved into his new flat, only to find he was sharing it with an uninvited presence - or two or more...

From Paranormal Brighton & Hove
by Janet Cameron

As told to Janet Cameron by a Brighton resident and guaranteed by her to be an authentic account of a haunting.   

George is convinced his Brighton flat is haunted. When he bought the flat from an old lady twenty-five years ago, things "started to go bump in the night." The old lady, we'll call her Miss R. was about to go into a nursing home. She told George that the flat would be no good for him and was most unwelcoming. The flat was in a poor state of repair, and Miss R. said that a builder should buy it. She emphasised it would be a big mistake if George bought it. She was an unfriendly person.

Odd Things Start to Happen

When George eventually moved into the flat and started to do repairs and redecorations, things started to happen. He moved into the bedroom and experienced loud knocking on the wall in the corner of the room. This knocking started at 10pm and continued all night until next morning, preventing George from getting a good night's sleep. He contacted the Council to see if they could assist and also the neighbours, but without success. It's well-known that ghosts do not like alterations to "their" homes. Friends came to visit and they, too, heard the knocking. It was obviously not pipes or a washing machine, as no washing machine would operate all night, every night.

This went on for about two years and then stopped. One day, a friend who was psychic, came to stay, and he was alarmed, saying he could hear deep breathing. The flat felt as if there was a curse on it, as so many things went wrong and George incurred heavy expenses. There were also cold spots in the flat despite central heating and hot weather.

A Sister Plays Mischievous Tricks

In October 1999, his sister, to whom he was close, died suddenly. This caused him much distress, and more strange things happened. Jewellery and a pair of gloves he'd bought in Venice that Christmas disappeared. He hunted throughout the flat and made enquiries from friends, with no luck. At night, he felt a cool breeze on his cheek as if he had left a window open, but he realised he hadn't. He felt it was the spirit of his sister to reassure him that there was an afterlife. A friend phoned and he told her about the loss of his jewellery. She said it was probably his sister, as she'd heard of several people who had put down items in their usual place and then went to pick them up, only to discover they had disappeared. She told him to call out to his sister. "Kate, have you taken my jewellery?"

As this was on a Saturday, about mid-day, George did what his friend suggested and then finished the call. He went to Waitrose to do his shopping, and returned at two o'clock to receive another phone call from a friend, Steve, who asked why he had phoned him. He said there was a message that was difficult to hear on his answerphone. It sounded faint, as if it was from abroad. George explained he hadn't phoned Steve as he'd been out at the time. Steve insisted he had, as the phone number was recorded on his own machine. Around the same time, George's nephew also had strange messages on his answerphone from a female. One of his friends had phoned him, and a woman's voice said he was not at home. Could this, thought George, be his sister getting up to mishcievous tricks, this time targeting the nephew?

On George's birthday in July the following year, he was going out to celebdrate with Steve, when for some reason he felt an urge to look in the meter cupboard by his front door. And there were his gloves!  Yet over the previous year, he'd been to the meter cupboard and the gloves were not there. Unfortunately, he has still not recovered his jewellery.

Objects Rattle and Move Around

A few years later, George and a friend went to see a medium who was appearing in Eastbourne. They thought it was a most interesting evening. When George got home and sat down to watch television, suddenly his collection of fob watches started to rattle in the display cabinet. At first, he thought he had imagined it, but it happened twice more. This had never occurred before. He thought it must be his sister, Kate, trying to contact him again, and he felt reassured.

Recently, other weird things have happened. George had a pasta jar that was on shelving on the kitchen wall. One day he tipped out the remains of the spaghetti, intending to buy more from the supermarket, and then he placed the empty jar back on the shelf. Next time he went to get the jar to fill it, it wasn't there. He knew he hadn't broken it, and it was too big to accidentally throw into the rubbish bin. Two weeks passed, and he resented having to buy a new one, but eventually found another in a charity shop. Then, some days later, he found the original jar. It was on the other side of the kitchen in a cupboard rarely used.

"I definitely didn't put it there," he says. "It always went on that top shelf on the other side of the kitchen."

George's sister had always been quite a lively and mischievous person, and he believes his sister is playing tricks on him just to let him know she is still around. He says he finds it very comforting that there is "another life" in his flat. He feels close to her children, and he believes it is his duty to be there for them. He has a friend who lives in Cambridge Road, who also had a brother who died. This brother had been a difficult character in his life, "burning the candle at both ends."  Ever since his death, there has been poltergeist activity in his flat. George's friend just calls out to his brother to stop it.

The friend's deceased brother has a daughter, so perhaps the spirit is worried about her wellbeing and wants to ensure that her uncle is looking after her.

Source:

• Verbal account from "George" of Brighton and Hove, who prefers not to be formally identified.

Gay Entertainment in Brighton in the Nineteen Sixties

The Fortune of War, Great Brighton Entertainment.
Photo Copyright Janet Cameron

During the sixties, gay men became bold, and it was not uncommon to see two gay guys holding hands in public. Lesbianism, however, was not "in the closet" in the same way, and this was because it was actually unrecognised. 

This caused lesbians specific problems related to a sense of invisibility. While they escaped some of the abuse hurled at gay men and were able to co-habit in pairs without interference just as pairs of heterosexual female friends might co-habit for mutual benefit, they were not able to find assistance when needed, for example, as victims of domestic violence.

A film about this phenomenon was released across the country, although many versions were "cut." Brighton, however, was more tolerant than other towns.

The Killing of Sister George - a Lesbian Movie

Hove audiences were treated to the uncut version of The Killing of Sister George. This included a bedroom scene between two of the actors. The main protagonists in the film were Beryl Reid, puffing away at her cigar and knocking back a glass of gin, Susannah York, young, innocent and childlike, and Patricia Medina, a prostitute.

According to the The Argus, several members of the Legal and Parliamentary Committee attended a showing of the film in Brighton the previous month and were in full agreement that the show could be shown in Hove unabridgd, although it received an X-Certificate.

The Brighton and Hove Herald's Mary Richards said it took a strong stomach to take it. "The lesbian side of the story, even the controverisal love scene, is handled with what I suppose could be called good taste," she said cautiously.

Dusty Springfield, Brighton's Gay Icon

Stunning gay icon Dusty Sprngfield (1939-1999) lived in Wilbury Road in Hove, East Sussex. The husky-voiced singer was distinctive with her huge, blonde bouffant hairstyle and thick, sooty eyelashes and eyeshadow. She formed her group, The Springfields, in Wilbury Road.

She appeared at the Brighton Hippodrome at 52-58 Middle Street with Eden Kane in August, 1964 and was adored by the gay community.

In a BBC News report on 7 February 2006, a councillor, Mr. Bill Randall, proposed introducing a "pink plque" scheme to Brighton to commemorate the contribution made by members of the LGBT community to the city. Mr. Randall said he would like to create a gay and lesbian heritage trail, and he specifically mentioned Dusty Springfield as one person who should be remembered in this way.

Sources:

• The Argus, Staff Reporter, 21 October, 1969.
• Richards, Mary, "Film Review," The Brighton and Hove Herald, 21 November, 1969.
• Adapted from: Cameron, Janet, LGBT Brighton and Hove, Amberley Publishing, 2010.

Gluck (or Hannah Gluckstein) Steyning's Famous Painter. Feminist and Most Original Thinker

Gluck got furious if her name wasn't pronounced to rhyme with "duck."

Gluck, born Hannah Gluckstein, (1895-1978) was the daughter of an opera singer.

She was an unusual, free-thinking person. Her biography, by Diana Souhami, recounts how Gluck always dressed in men's clothes, opened doors for ladies and pulled wine corks like a man.

One of Gluck's most famous works of art is a profile-portrait of herself with her lover at that time, Nesta Obermer. This appeared on a Virago publication of the famous lesbian autobiographical novel The Well of Loneliness by Marguerite Radclyffe Hall published in 1928.

Following Whistler's Example - Feminist Gluck Eschews Gender

Gluck received a private income which permitted her to indulge her energy in her work. Acclaimed for her floral paintings as well as her portraits, she had a strong sense of self. Gluck (rhyming with duck) hated it if anyone prefixed her name with "Miss." In her view, the paintings were important, not the gender of the painter. Diana Souhami describes what happened when Gluck was set to be included on an art society's letterhead: "A graphic designer... stuck in an ameliorating "Miss" and so Gluck instantly resigned, insisting that her name was "inked out."

On another occasion, she tried to sue a publisher who produced a novel with a protagonist called "Gluck." There was nothing self-effacing about this gifted painter.

Gluck and Nesta Obermer - YOUWE

Gluck moved to Steyning, a village not far from Brighton, in 1944 where she lived with Edith Shackleton Heald and her sister, Nora, at the Chantry House. But there was a problem. Edith's disapproving sister, Nora, made life difficult for the lovers and they were an awkward threesome.

A further complication was that Gluck was still in love with Nesta Obermer, the former lover whose picture appeared with Gluck on the Marguerite Radclyffe Hall novel. Gluck had met Nesta in 1936 while at Mozart's opera Don Giovanni at Glyndebourne and afterwards Gluck referred to this part of her life as YOUWE.

Gluck had always regarded Nesta as her "wife" although her lover was actually married to a considerably older man, an American called Seymour Obermer. Obermer helped to finance Nesta's lavish lifestyle. According to Nesta, she was madly in love with Gluck, but she was not prepared for the scandal, social annihilation and the reduction in income which would be precipitated by a split from Seymour. This might seem cold and calculating, but divorce in the 1930s was far different from how it is today.

Gluck never fully recovered from this intense but unsatisfactory love affair.

Nora is Scandalised by Gluck and Edith

Gluck had been longing for a real home, and when Edith and Nora invited her to live with them, she agreed immediately. Edith had been a special correspondence for theLondon Evening Standard and she also worked for the Express, Sunday Express and Daily Sketch. Previously Edith had a love affair with the poet William Butler Yeats, who had stayed at the Chantry House. Yeats had been dead for five years when Gluck moved in with the two sisters.

Nora was scandalised by the relationship between her sister and Gluck and so friction ensued. There were nasty, petty arguments, insults, jealousy and tears. Nora's friends supported her against Gluck, but Edith refused to give up her lover. As a result, Nora always retired to bed immediately after supper and refused to rise until lunchtime. She visited friends just to get out of the house. Gluck and Edith carried on just as before, visiting the theatre to see the latest plays, for example Oscar Wilde's Lady Windermere's Fan. Edith had a special affectionate name for her lover, "Darling Grub."

Disgusted by Gluck and Edith, Nora Moves Out

Nora said the two women were "disgusting people," and eventually she moved out when Gluck paid her off with half the value of the house from her own "Trust." Nora took up residence at Wykeham Terrace in Steyning. Moving day was 14 February, 1948 and at that time, Nora was sixty-five years old. Later, Gluck expressed her sorrow that Nora felt she had to leave her own home. Nora was a journalist and editor and she worked for the magazine The Lady until she retired in 1954.

Gluck's final work was called "Rage, rage against the dying of the light" (after the Dylan Thomas poem) and consisted of a decomposing fish head lying on a beach.

Edith died on 4 November, 1976 and Gluck's death followed fourteen months later on 10 January, 1978, aged eighty-two. But Nesta had the last laugh. She outlived Gluck and was asked if she wanted anything of Gluck's for a keepsake.

"Oh, a few of her fine-haired brushes," she said airily.

Sources:

• Souhami, Diana, Gluck, her Biography, Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 2000.
• Adapted from: Cameron, Janet, LGBT Brighton & Hove, Amberley Publishing, 2010.