The Mayor was a happy man. He had been to many events in bad weather recently, but today the sun was shining gloriously. A brisk breeze off the sea made the flags flutter bravely, though it meant that gentlemen had to keep a hand on their tall hats. He looked around with a sense of satisfaction, at the assembled Aldermen and Councillors, the local Member of Parliament Gerald Loder, the Race Course Trustees and the specially invited guests in the roped-off enclosure inside the high gates. Through the gates he could see a large crowd stretching down Egremont Place, of the poor people from down near the cliffs and the even poorer people of the dank slums on the shoulder of the hill towards the Steine. To amuse everyone whilst they waited Mr Trussell’s String Band sawed away, accompanied by a choir from the Chailey Industrial School.
On the dot of midday the Mayor stepped forward. One of the Race Course Trustees handed him a key, and with the words ‘That the gateways be now thrown open and the Park dedicated to the use and enjoyment of the public for ever’ he turned the key and willing hands pulled them open. Retaining as much dignity as possible before the surging crowd the Mayor, accompanied by his mace-bearer, his chaplain and his piper in full Highland rig, made his way to the other six iron gates where similar formalities took place.
He then processed to the side of the newly built lake where, on a crimson carpeted platform, there were prayers, speeches and a tree was planted. The dignitaries then retired for a hearty lunch, leaving the Park to the people of Brighton who swarmed all over it for the rest of the day.
The date was 10th August, 1892, but Queen’s Park had had over 70 years of history before that date.
Extract—Story of Queen’s Park, Brighton
Preamble : page 9
