This picture of a coach accident at Earlswood Common was an illustration by James and George Temple for a book called Brighton and its coaches, a history of the London and Brighton Road by William Blew, published in 1894. The book described the great snowstorm of 1836, an event Blew described as ‘almost without parallel in the annals of stage-coaching.’
He was not exaggerating. The Great Snow of 1836 was a comparatively rare, true cyclonic blizzard, like the more recent and better-known snowfalls of 1947 and 1963. Those events exceeded it in terms of economic damage and duration but in terms of drift accumulation it was probably the most severe on record for southern England. This part of the country was directly beneath the centre of the stalled cyclone. Gale force winds whipped up drifts that were recorded as 20 to 40 feet deep in parts of the South Downs and Kent.
The snow began to fall on Christmas Eve, continuing for several days. The country’s mail and stagecoach network ground to a halt and day by day the regional newspapers reported stories of a country in paralysis. There were vivid descriptions of individual tragedies and heroic attempts to get the mail through. When communication was eventually restored, these local stories were eagerly reshared across the country.
The first days of the snowfall are well described in the Brighton Patriot which reported that snow began to fall on Saturday 24th December and continued all the next day.
At night, the wind, being NE blew a complete hurricane, whirling masses of snow about with terrific fury. The policemen and others who were out during the night speak of its violence as indescribable and the cold as intense.
Soon reports started trickling in of Christmas revellers who had perished in the snow. A lamplighter found a man named ‘Black Will’ dressed in a ‘fustian jacket and leather spatterdashes’, lying dead near the Cricketers’ Arms and a milkman ‘fell down from cold and exhaustion on the Grand Parade, and expired.’
The Patriot reported that by Monday, ‘we almost imagined ourselves among the Esquimaux.’ Snow driven by the wind from the roofs of the houses had drifted along the streets, in some places six feet high so that the inhabitants had to cut ravines to get out of their houses.
The most difficult part of the road was from Piecombe to Handcross: the roads between those places are very hilly, and in the valleys the snow drifted to a great depth.
The roads in every direction became impassable to vehicles. No coaches or vehicles could leave the town and none were getting in. Almost all communication was cut off but a few hardy individuals managed to get out to spread the news to the wider world.
The King’s Messenger left for the Palace, with despatches, for London, on Sunday evening; but when he arrived at Patcham he was compelled to leave the carriage; he then took a horse, and proceeded towards London.
Huge efforts were made to get the mail through but travel was fraught with danger. The Ditchling mail man was reported missing and the boy who brought the mail from Seaford to Lewes was almost buried and had to crawl for help to dig his horse out of the snow.
Even those who stayed at home were not safe. At Cliffe Hill, east of Lewes, an immense avalanche of snow fell over the edge of the cliff burying seven workers’ cottages in Boulder Row. A mammoth rescue effort managed to rescue 7 people but 8 had perished. This was the worst recorded avalanche in British history.
A Mrs Robinson was dug out with a child at the breast, the mother dead. The unfortunate woman on the first alarm had escaped, but rendered desperate by the strong affection of the mother, rushed back to her house to save her other children, when shocking to relate, the avalanche poured down upon the whole family and buried them. alive.
Coaches along the London to Brighton Road became stuck in the snow and some passengers had to continue on foot. Mail bags were transferred to men on horseback but those who had to leave the road could only travel over the hills with guides equipped with ropes and poles as in many places the snow was up to ten feet deep.
We are informed that the on the London Road, near Clayton Hill, the snow had drifted yesterday morning so as to form a ridge across the road upwards of twenty feet in height.
The effect on trade was significant. In Brighton, most shops had to close. The only activities were clearing passageways and snowballing. Many traders all over the country were counting on money being sent by clients but the snow prevented it reaching them.
Such a sudden influx of unwilling visitors into Cuckfield made lodgings so scarce that many were obliged to sleep two in a bed.
On Tuesday, one of the King’s Messengers managed to get through to Brighton from London, but he had needed the assistance of twenty-five men to make a passage through the snow to reach Cuckfield. The walls on either side of this passage were six feet high and many coaches were stranded there.
Elsewhere in the country, stories were spreading of other incidents in the snow. The Duke of Wellington got stuck in a wheatfield near Marlborough in his ‘travelling carriage and four’ along with his outriders. He was rescued by the surveyor of roads who piloted the Duke across the country until they came to a sound-bottomed road. The surveyor was made of strong stuff, ‘He is an elderly gentleman, but fears nothing. He rode before the Bath mail for two hours without his hat, which had been blown off by a gust of wind.’
The New Dart has arrived this evening from Reigate in four hours. It was dragged out of the snow on Monday upon Reigate Hill, with another coach. A third coach was in the rear but turned back and put in, it is supposed, at Gatton.
The London to Brighton Road was reported to be largely passable from London to Horley but unsurprisingly Reigate Hill, never the easiest road to navigate, was a trouble spot.
The Brighton Gazette reported that coaches that made it down the hill had to stop for several days in Reigate.
The great snowstorm of Christmas 1836 had severe short-term economic consequences, cutting off communications and the flow of money for several days. A much more devastating effect was the large number of fatalities. People froze to death in the streets, in the countryside and in their homes and many more lives were probably lost in the turbulent seas.
London Courier and Evening Gazette, Wednesday, 28 December 1836
Brighton Gazette, Tuesday 27 and Thursday, 29 December 1836
The True Sun, Thursday 29 December 1836
The Morning Advertiser, Thursday 29 December
The Avalanche at Lewes, East Sussex, 1836 by an unknown artist, Lewes Castle and Museum