Two Grey Herrings

Here is the 12th of 24 stained glass window designs on the Palace Pier which AI and I are using as inspiration for some of these BrightonBeach365 daily posts - see Stained Glass Window 1 for background. This one shows a stylised coastal landscape. In the foreground, two fish lie on a pebbly or rocky shore, their bodies rendered in shades of green and outlined in black, with prominent red eyes. Behind them, a golden-yellow beach meets a bright blue sea composed of layered bands of darker and lighter blues. In the distance, a white sailboat with a red sail floats on the water under a sky filled with stylised white clouds and pale blue light. 

A limerick starter

Two fish on the shingle lay low,

With clouds and a sailboat in tow.

Said one with a grin,

‘We’re caught in a spin -

Glass trapped us, but what a great show!’

Two Grey Herrings (with apologies to Agatha Christie)

It was just past eight on a damp August morning when Miss Ada Fossett, retired milliner and part-time crossword champion, made her habitual stroll along Brighton Beach. The tide was out, the air thick with salt and gossip, and the seafront unusually quiet - save for a small cluster near the Banjo Groyne.

Laid side by side on the shingle were two fish. Not just any fish - herrings, unmistakably grey, and arranged with such unsettling symmetry that Ada stopped mid-step. One pointed east, the other west, as though in disagreement over where the truth lay. Between them, embedded in the pebbles, was a torn page from The Times crossword, Tuesday’s edition - curiously, only one clue had been filled in: 8 Down: Red herring (6,7).

Inspector Blodgett of the Brighton constabulary was summoned. Gruff, sceptical, and already two sugars into his second tea, he at first dismissed the fish as the work of pranksters. But Ada, glancing sideways at the crossword, murmured, ‘Not red. Grey. Someone’s being precise.’

The investigation led them through a web of local characters: a disgraced professor of ichthyology turned beach artist, a jilted puppeteer whose seaside show had recently closed, and a fortune-teller with a vendetta against crossword compilers. All had motives - revenge, reputation, or riddles.

The breakthrough came not from forensics, but from fish. A witness recalled seeing a man in a pinstripe suit carefully placing the herrings at dawn. Not just any man - Mr Edwin Trellis, publisher of The Times puzzle section, known for his weekly beach swims and unorthodox marketing tactics.

Confronted, Trellis confessed. It was a publicity stunt for a new cryptic clue series, inspired by Christie’s own fondness for misleading leads. But the twist - and there always is one - came when Ada, flipping the paper over, found a scribbled name and date. That very morning. Trellis hadn’t written it.

The real mystery had been hijacked. Beneath the herrings, buried shallowly in the pebbles, police unearthed a small locket containing a photograph - and a name long believed lost in the postwar chaos. The fish were not just herrings. They were a sign. And someone, somewhere on the Brighton seafront, was using sleight of species to point towards a cold case, about to be warmed by the sun.

‘Grey herrings,’ Ada murmured, eyes narrowing. ‘Not a distraction. A direction.’

A roker’s tail

Found on the beach: all that’s left of a thornback ray (Raja clavata) - its distinctive tail.

The thornback ray, or ‘roker’ as it is often called in the UK, is a familiar and charismatic resident of British coastal waters, including the shores around Brighton. Its name comes from the distinctive thorn-like spines that stud its back and tail - these are actually modified skin teeth, giving the ray a rough, almost armored appearance. With its broad, diamond-shaped body and short snout, the thornback ray glides over sandy and muddy seabeds, its mottled brown-grey upper surface dappled with yellowish patches and dark spots, blending perfectly with the sea floor.

Unlike most true rays, thornback rays are technically skates, and they lay eggs rather than giving birth to live young. Each spring and summer, females deposit tough, rectangular egg cases - known to beachcombers as ‘mermaid’s purses’ - in sheltered areas on the seabed (see also A catshark that is a dogfish.) Inside each case, a single embryo develops, feeding on a yolk sac for four to five months before hatching as a miniature ray, already equipped with the beginnings of its signature thorns. Juveniles spend their early months in shallow nursery grounds, gradually venturing into deeper waters as they grow. Males reach maturity at around seven years old, females at about nine, and some individuals may live for over two decades.

Thornback rays are opportunistic predators, feeding on a variety of crustaceans and small fish. Juveniles prefer shrimps and small crabs, while adults tackle larger crustaceans and fish, using their powerful jaws to crush shells. The thornback’s rough skin and formidable thorns provide some defense against predators, and these features become more pronounced with age, especially in females, who develop a line of large thorns along their backs.

There is often confusion between skates and rays, but the differences are subtle yet significant. Skates like the thornback lay eggs, while most true rays bear live young. Skates have stockier tails without venomous spines and tend to have more pronounced dorsal fins, whereas rays often have slender, whip-like tails and, in some species, venomous stings. In the UK, the term ‘ray’ is often used for both, adding to the muddle, especially at fishmongers where ‘skate wings’ are a common offering.

Around Brighton, the thornback ray is a familiar catch for anglers and is sometimes landed by commercial fisheries. Conservation groups in Sussex have launched campaigns to monitor ray populations and promote sustainable fishing practices, though the thornback ray is currently listed as Least Concern on the IUCN Red List.

Other rays share these waters, including the undulate ray with its wavy markings, the blonde ray, and the once-abundant but now critically endangered common skate. The fate of these species is intertwined with that of the thornback, as they are often caught together in mixed fisheries. The challenge is compounded by the difficulty in identifying species once they are skinned and sold as generic ‘skate’ wings. See Wikipedia for more on the roker!

A truck in thought

This photo shows a Davis Trackhire truck, equipped with a hydraulic crane, unloading or positioning a large stack of heavy-duty panels - temporary ground protection or trackway, designed to create stable surfaces for vehicles and crowds on uneven or soft ground. In the background, you can see the calm turquoise sea with the silhouettes of the Rampion wind farm turbines on the horizon, under a clear blue sky. What is the truck thinking?

‘How curious it is, to pause amid the salt-kissed air, steel sinews humming with potential, beneath the ever-watchful sun. They call me Davis - a name painted boldly upon my flanks, though what is a name to a mind busy with purpose and observation? Here, perched between shingle and surf, I contemplate more than just my cargo.

I have journeyed on many roads: winding motorways by dawn, city grids pulsing with restless ambition, and now the still calm of the coast. Each mile of my travel has etched stories into my chassis - patience when the world is slow, resilience when the elements test me, satisfaction upon completing my duty.

Today I am burdened, yet unbowed; my payload stacked with the meticulous care of intent and design. My mechanical arm curves with the choreography of industry, a testament to human ingenuity and my own quiet resolve. I find purpose in service, pride in precision. My mission is as clear as the horizon: to deliver, to build, to form the bedrock upon which progress is staged.

Yet I am not without wonder. As I gaze seaward, turbines spin far off, guardians of a future knit with wind and light. I marvel at what I carry, but also at what carries me - the systems and hands, decisions and designs, that coalesce in a moment like this.

I am more than machinery, more than fuel and metal. I am a witness to endeavour, a bearer of burdens, a contemplative spirit at the margin of earth and water. My wheels may rest, but my mind, galvanised by quiet reflection, wanders still.

So let it be written: I am truck, yet thinker; labourer, yet philosopher. On this stony edge, I am at once at home and ever in motion, ever turning ideas as surely as I turn my wheels.’

Bloc Party’s Silent Alarm

Today, Bloc Party headline On the Beach, the annual summer music festival that transforms Brighton’s seafront into a large-scale open-air concert venue. Held each July, the event draws thousands of fans from across the UK to the city’s iconic shingle beach. With the Rampion wind farm on the horizon and stages set just metres from the tide, the festival once again brings live music to one of the most distinctive coastal settings in the country.

On the Beach began in 2021, building on Brighton’s long love affair with large-scale seaside music. It channels the same spirit that drew quarter of a million people to Fatboy Slim’s chaotic beach show back in 2002 - a landmark event that still hangs heavy over Brighton’s pop-culture memory. Unlike that free-for-all, the modern festival is carefully ticketed and spread over several weekends each July, bringing big-name DJs, rock bands and indie outfits to stages erected almost within reach of the tide. Past years have seen Royal Blood, Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds, The Kooks and The Libertines claim the beach. This summer’s run continues the tradition, with today’s billing dedicated to a more guitar-driven, indie flavour.

At the heart of it all are Bloc Party, who tonight perform their seminal debut album Silent Alarm in full, marking twenty years since it first tore through the UK charts. Released in 2005, Silent Alarm fused jagged post-punk guitar lines, urgent dance rhythms and raw, nervy vocals into a sound that defined an era of British indie. Songs like Banquet and Helicopter became anthems in sticky clubs and muddy fields alike. Over the two decades since, Bloc Party have shape-shifted through electronic experiments, introspective rock and propulsive returns to form, all without losing their taste for sharp edges and restless energy.

Frontman Kele Okereke has cited everyone from The Smiths to electronic pioneers like A Guy Called Gerald as influences. Guitarist Russell Lissack, meanwhile, has a side passion for rescuing stray cats and once briefly joined Ash on tour. Joining the two founders of the band on stage will be Louise Bartle on drums and percussion - officially part of the band since 2015 - and Harry Deacon, who took over bass duties in 2023.

Sharing the stage with Bloc Party today are Everything Everything, the Manchester art-rock outfit celebrated for twisting pop into clever, unexpected shapes, and Mystery Jets, long-time darlings of the indie circuit whose bright, slightly psychedelic songs like Two Doors Down still ring with youthful rush. They’re joined by Leeds newcomers English Teacher (see English Teacher on the beach, who played this very location a couple of months ago) and Liz Lawrence, the genre-hopping singer-songwriter whose crystalline vocals have become a Brighton favourite. Rounding out the bill are FEET, bringing fresh energy off the back of their new album, and Martial Arts, a rising local band adding yet more sun-soaked guitar sparkle to the beach.

Trans Pride march

Brighton is hosting Trans Pride today, with thousands of people - not least Queen Victoria! - gathering to celebrate and advocate for trans, non-binary and intersex rights. The day began with a rally in Victoria Gardens at 11am, followed by a march through the city and along the seafront. An accessible route was provided from the Old Ship Hotel, and free taxis have been arranged to help participants move between key locations.

The march is a central part of the annual event, which began in 2013 and has grown to become the largest of its kind in Europe. Brighton & Hove City Council is flying the trans flag above its buildings in support of the event, and members of the council’s LGBTQ+ Workers Forum are present with a stall in New Steine Gardens. The city is expecting between 30,000 and 45,000 people to attend throughout the day.

After the march, the focus shifts to the park and community spaces - see Trans Pride and Scenemag. In New Steine Gardens, there are speeches, stalls, and performances on the main stage, while Dorset Gardens is hosting acoustic music and a relaxed picnic area. Brighton Dome and Corn Exchange are running a makers’ market featuring work by trans artists and vendors. The celebrations will continue into the evening with an after-party at North Laine Brewhouse from around 7pm.

Trans Pride Brighton is both a protest and a celebration. It provides a platform for visibility and solidarity at a time when trans rights remain a subject of national debate. The event continues to grow in size and significance, with its route along the seafront making it one of the city’s most visible annual demonstrations.

French attack repulsed!

Exactly 480 years ago today, and amid heightened hostilities between England and France, a French fleet launched an attempted landing at Brighton. The incident is vividly described in Holinshed’s Chronicles, later quoted by the Victorian historian John Ackerson Erredge. Alongside this narrative survives a remarkable contemporary map, now held in the British Library, which graphically depicts the French fleet offshore, the disembarkation of troops, and the town in flames.

In 1545, during the reign of Henry VIII, England was in conflict with France. After Henry’s forces had taken Boulogne and devastated regions of France, King Francis I sent Admiral D’Annebault with a formidable fleet to retaliate by striking at the English south coast. The event, described in Holinshed’s Chronicles (a three-volume British history published in the late 16th century), as quoted in History of Brighthelmston by Erredge (page 61), specifically mentions Brighton (then styled ‘Bright Hampstead’ or ‘Brighthampston’):

‘In 37[th year of the reign of] Hen. 8th, 1545, July the 18th, the admiral of Franco, Mons. Donebatte [a corruption of the name D’Annebault), hoisted up sails, and with his whole navy (which consisted of 200 ships and 26 gallies,) came forth into the seas, and arrived on the coast of Sussex, before Bright Hampstead, and set certain of his soldiers on land to burn and spoil the country: but the beacons were fired and the inhabitants thereabouts came down so thick, that the Frenchmen were driven to their ships with loss of diverse of their numbers, so that they did little hurt there.’

The attempted landing at Brighton was thus met with swift resistance from the local populace, rallied by beacon fires. Their response was so determined that the French could do ‘little hurt there’ and were quickly forced back to their ships, having suffered losses. Again, it is said that ‘the inhabitants thereabouts came down so thick’ that the French attack was foiled before much damage could be done.

The text also refers to a remarkable ‘Picture Map’ from the time, providing further detail about the attack: ‘The number of ships attacking the town is twenty-two; and the largest, probably the Admiral’s, lying nearest the shore, has four masts. . . Eight of the latter [galleys] are on shore, and the armed men from them have disembarked on the beach, the place where they landed being inscribed, - “here landed the galleys”.’

This map apparently depicts the full force of the attempted raid. Details include: ‘On shore the houses under the cliffe are on fire; from the upper town also flames are issuing from almost every house.’ The town at that time had ‘five rows of houses running from north to south’ with a town field in the centre and a prominent road east, ‘about the spot now occupied by the Old Steine,’ labeled as ‘the valcy comyng from Lewes town to Brighthampston.’

Defensive preparations and geography are highlighted: ‘On this road and on the hill adjacent bodies of armed men are marching towards the town.’ Key townspeople landmarks are noted, such as the ‘town fyre cag’ (likely for signalling), the church encircled by praying or armed townsfolk, and two ‘wynde mylles’ to the north, near ‘the bekon of the towne’.

The response of the local gentry and yeomen is emphasised both in the narrative and in map notes suggesting rapid mustering in defense: ‘As this road approaches the beach, it is inscribed, - “Upon this west pt may lond cm psones (100,000 persons) unletted by any pvision there.” ’

The attempted raid on Brighton thus achieved very little for the French: they were repulsed with ‘diverse of their numbers’ lost, while the locals ‘quickly distressed them’. Their attack was notable for the rapid civilian and militia resistance that foiled their intent to burn or pillage the town. The French then moved on to other nearby targets, but Brighton’s quick and effective defence seems to stand out in this record as a testament to the vigilance and bravery of its 16th-century residents.

This vivid account is matched by the surviving picture map, produced at the same time - July 1545 - and now held in the British Library under the reference Cotton Augustus I. i. 18. This large-scale, hand-coloured map depicts the French fleet offshore, the disembarkation of troops, burning houses, beacon fires, and armed townspeople rallying in defence. It is thought the map was likely commissioned as part of Henry VIII’s broader programme of coastal surveillance and fortification.

Floods in Pool Valley

One hundred and seventy years ago today, on 17 July 1850, Brighton suffered a violent storm - with thunder and lightening - that soon flooded parts of the town, notably Pool Valley, just across the road from the beach and pier. This fabulous image - courtesy of the Royal Pavilion & Museums, Brighton & Hove - was first published by F. B. Mason (Repository of Arts, 120 King’s Road, Brighton) in August 1850. A detailed report of the weather and damage appeared the following day in the Brighton Gazette (available online with subscription) as follows:

‘Storm of Last Evening

A storm of lightning, thunder, and rain of almost unexampled violence broke over Brighton last evening. During the whole of Monday, Tuesday, and yesterday, the temperature had been very high; on Monday the thermometer in the shade reached nearly to 80. Indications of a coming tempest were discernible throughout the whole of yesterday afternoon, and about a quarter to seven it burst, after a few preparatory grumbles, apparently over the centre of the town. The lightning and thunder were terrific; the flashes of blinding brilliancy were followed the next instant by the crash, and the buildings were shaken to their foundations. The rain came down, not in poetic but in literal torrents, and the widest streets were turned into streams over their whole width. Even the most apparently secure roofs were not proof against the attacks of the water; the rain came through in numerous houses, flooding the apartments. In our own office, operations were suspended, and during the height of the storm the probability of the publication of the present sheet assumed a very dubious aspect. The violence of the storm lasted about an hour.

After the above general observations had been written, we learned the following details. Pool Valley, as is known to all the residents of Brighton and to most of its visitors far and near, is situated in the lowest part of Brighton. It is at the back of the Royal York Hotel; and years ago, previous to the construction of the Grand Junction Road, which now forms a barrier between it and the sea, it was constantly overflowed at high tides. Within a few minutes of the commencement of the storm, the water poured from three different sources - namely, from East Street, the Steyne, and the Marine Parade - the streams bringing with them the overflowings of North Street, the Marine Parade, St. James’s Street, and Edward Street, into the Valley; and the result was that Creak’s baths, Strong’s painter’s shop, an adjoining carpenter’s shop, two small houses, and the Wellington Inn were flooded.

The contents of the cellars and shops were immediately floated into the street; and as the storm continued and the accumulated water poured down, two of the three shops at the back of the York Hotel and forming a portion of the building were also inundated. The shops are occupied by Mr Pegg, wine merchant, and his brother, a fishmonger. The third shop, occupied by Mr Donald, farrier, escaped a similar visitation from the fact of its being approached by a flight of steps. In rushing from the Steyne, one of the streams entered and deluged in succession the area of Mr Cordy Burrows, surgeon, the shops of Mrs Streeter, baker, Mr Smith, stationer, and Madame Dorney, milliner, and approached within an inch of the shop doors of Mr Bruce, engraver, and Mr Martin, ornamental hairworker.

When the water first rushed into the Valley an attempt was made to give it exit by keeping clear the sink gratings by means of brooms; but this attempt was immediately and necessarily abandoned. Boats were then brought to the spot, first one, then a second, and then a third, for the purpose of securing the floating property; and as the depth of the water increased and the inmates of the houses were driven to the upper stories to aid their escape, the women and children uttered piercing cries from the windows for assistance. Fortunately, however, the water did not rise to such a height as to render the latter course expedient.’

The text on the image above reads: ‘On Wednesday morning, July 17th 1850, Brighton and immediate neighbourhood was visited with a remarkable deluge of rain, which, descending in continuous torrents, for several hours, speedily converted the low lying ground of Pool Valley, and other parts of the Town, into what appeared, as represented in the above view, an extensive lake.’ Also along the bottom margin are: ‘Published by F.B. Mason, Repository of Arts, 120 King’s Road, Brighton, Augt 19th 1850.’

A poorer reproduction of the image and a brief summary of the weather events, can be found on page 67 of Eileen Hollingdale’s Old Brighton (George Nobbs Publishing, 1979).