BRISTOL.
[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.]
Sin,—Your reviewer's remarks about Bristol, in the notice of Mr. Salmon's book in your issue of December 30th, 1922, are likely to cause some indignation among the many Bristol residents who are regular readers of the Spectator. Cities, not less than persons, may be excused if they resent Aisparage- ment when it is conveyed in airy generalizations.
Your reviewer describes our city as one of " the sick towns of England " ; notes its " scars and squalors " ; condemns " the mean and dirty streets that so disfigure the city " ; refers to its present-day " architectural blackguardisms " ; is sarcastic about its " smoky glories " ; includes it among " our dismal places " ; but is good enough to concede that it " has certain literary and historical associations that can make it attractive enough to read about." The unfairness of such criticism lies not so much in the statements themselves as in their general implication and their absurd one-sidedness. All large English commercial cities have " unclean side streets " and "ragged fringes." No English town of 400,000 people is exempt from hideous buildings. The most romantic corners of every ancient city are sheer squalor viewed from the exclusive standpoint of the hygienic and " social welfare " cults. But these unhappy universal facts supply no justifica- tion for particular sneers, the effect of which is to set Bristol among the typical loveless products of smoky industrialism.
No doubt the immediate environs of Temple Meads Station, and the commercial facades of Victoria Street, might depress anybody. But if your reviewer has had the opportunity (like the present writer) of comparing Bristol with any other large commercial city, by the simple method of residing in both, his comments are inexplicable. As a rule, the stranger who comes to Bristol declares it the most pleasant place, of its size, in the country : possessed of natural amenities which are wholly unknown to the typical great city of commerce and industry.
No city in England, of equal population, has less smoke, more colour, greener trees, or anything like the same allowance of blue sky. Whatever its modern blackguardisms in the way of building, the eighteenth-century architecture of Bristol— for those who have eyes to see it—abounds in variety, as well as in quantity. I refer all expert readers to the admirably illustrated article in the Architectural Review for September, 1921, the forerunner of an important book on the subject, by the same author, to be published shortly. Our fine buildings are no longer visibly assembled like those of our exquisite small sister, Bath ; many are overlaid or derelict ; but the aggregate of interest and beauty is surprising. And this takes no account of earlier architecture, such as St. Mary Redcliffe, Red Lodge, St. Peter's Hospital, and other fine examples. No city of equal size in England has a pleasanter centre than College Green or a more impressive principal street than Park Street. No city of equal size in Europe has surroundings of greater natural and unregulated charm than those to which " the ordinary working citizen " of Bristol—object of your re- viewer's commiseration—has constant and easy access. Our astonishinz Avon gorge, our spreading downs, our magnificent growths of timber (not arranged with ruler and compasses, ike Continental boulevards, but wearing the face of Nature -herself)are the admiration of experienced travellers from every part of the globe.
I refrain from emphasizing a more elusive point : the fas- cination .of old and new in palpable mixture, of shipping and wharves in the heart of a great town, of history made roman- tically visible by perpetual contrasts. The present-day pride of Bristolians in their city does not rely, by any means, on sentiment, or antiquarianism, or chit-chat about Chatterton. We do not " decorously concentrate on the remains of the fifteenth-century Butter Cross," for the very good reason that these remains are not in Bristol at all. We boldly claim that Bristol, in those very outward aspects that have been im- pugned, is the most agreeable large provincial city in the kingdom ; and that its near or accessible surroundings make it second to none as an urban holiday resort and centre. If your reviewer will visit us next spring, we shall have pleasure in showing him round.—I am, Sir, &o., J. E. BARTON. The Bristol Rotary Club.
[We referred Mr. Barton's letter to Mr. Williams-Ellis, who replies :—" Mr. Barton says that ' my remarks about Bristol . . . . are likely to cause indignation among the many residents of Bristol who are regular readers of the Spectator.' Obviously that was my chief intention, though I hope their indignation may be directed against the individuals, com- panies or interests responsible for the blemishes I dared to mention rather than against myself. However, I am happy to find that I have so successfully acted the humble part of
gadfly ' to Mr. Barton's ` noble steed,' and if there were more citizens as spirited as he there would be fewer places like Bristol —a formerly beautiful town since disfigured by a great ex- penditure of money and a very small expenditure of thought. I know Bristol fairly well, and I entirely agree that it is one of the least squalid of England's industrial cities, and I am disposed to accept Mr. Barton's very sporting offer of a con- ducted tour round his town in the spring, when I might even come to agree that it was the best—though the best of a dis- mally poor lot if we accept Continental and not our humble English standards.'1]
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