The summer holidays have arrived and for many it’s off to the beach! Our love of the seaside dates back centuries, originating with the spas visited for therapeutic purposes. In about 1626 a natural spring was discovered beneath cliffs near Scarborough, offering mineral water that proved an effective remedy for minor ailments. Sea water began to be identified as having similar curative properties to spring water and learned medical publications extolled the benefits of both sea bathing and drinking sea water. Subsequently Scarborough evolved into a sophisticated commercialised town, Britain’s first seaside resort; by the mid-1700s Brighton, Margate, Weymouth and other well-appointed coastal settlements were also attracting a wealthy, fashionable clientele.

Georgian resorts
From early on, novel contraptions broadly termed bathing machines were provided for those following the new trend for sea bathing to improve their health – essentially wooden huts on wheels pulled into the sea by a horse or, where too steep, via capstan and rope. The first known depiction of such a conveyance appears in John Settrington’s 1735 topographical view of Scarborough, while the earliest known written record is diarist Nicholas Blundell’s description of a ‘Conveniency for Bathing in the Sea’ at Liverpool, 1721. Various regional names for the bathing ‘machine’ developed: for example, Dr Richard Russell, the Lewes physician who helped to popularise Brighthelmstone (Brighton, after 1810) as a resort, referred to the local Sussex models as ‘bathing chariots’ in his influential Dissertation on the Use of Sea-Water in Diseases of the Glands (1752), while a contemporary visitor to Margate wrote of the ‘cover’d carriages’ in use. Patrons desiring a health-giving dip would queue on the beach to pay a hire charge, and when a machine became available stepped inside the dark interior to remove their street clothes – an unsteady operation as the machine lurched into the waves.

The seemingly curious bathing machine originally transported both infirm and healthy customers across the beach, into the sea and back. Since undressing in public was deemed improper, it also provided them with a convenient space in which to disrobe and to stow their belongings. Initially mixed bathing was customary, but even bathing attire was regarded as immodest and some machines were designed to offer privacy to individual bathers, as well as shielding them from onlookers. Historically men usually bathed naked, although undressing in private rendered their descent into the water more decent. Georgian and Regency ladies generally changed into a cap and loose linen bathing gown, voluminous outfits resembling those already used at spas. Hefty attendants called ‘bathers’ or ‘dippers’ helped to lift bathers into the water and assisted with the therapeutic dunkings, for there was little active swimming, especially among ladies, but much bobbing about and periodic submersions.

In Brighthelmstone, under the guidance of local swimming instructor John ‘Smoaker’ Miles and dipper Martha Gunn, the Prince Regent himself became a regular sea bather from the 1780s. ‘Queen of the dippers’ Martha Gunn hailed from a long-established local fishing family, many of whom worked as professional dippers from the 1750s. Martha’s day began at around 6am as she waited near the bathing machines ranged along the shore, taking customers out into the water for their submersions, then returning them to the beach. Martha performed this service repeatedly for decades, reputedly working in all weathers and spending many hours daily standing in the sea; despite this she lived to the age of 88 and is remembered today in paintings and popular prints. In Brighton, Margate and other Georgian resorts the vogue for sea-bathing significantly revitalised once-stagnant economies: indeed, the lure of potential tourist income led many coastal villages to reinvent themselves as fashionable sea-bathing centres. The provision of bathing machines was essential and local entrepreneurs often took the initiative, as in Lowestoft, for instance, where the landlord of the Crown Inn funded the first bathing machine in 1769, rapidly expanding his enterprise with further machines.

Victorian beaches
Until the early 1800s, hiring a bathing machine was still a luxury, a fashionable toy for the rich, according to some commentators. However, the coming of the railways facilitated much quicker and cheaper travel to the coast and from around mid-century the exclusivity of sea bathing declined. Health was no longer the main objective when visiting the seaside, but relaxation and entertainment. Victorian beaches grew increasingly crowded with working-class day-trippers and wooden bathing machines were a familiar sight. It was considered inappropriate to use the sea without one and hiring out machines during the season continued to generate significant income for the proprietors, typically local boatmen, fishermen, publicans, guest house proprietors and other town traders.

By the 1860s, in response to pressure from middle-class holidaymakers, many seaside resorts operated segregated male and female bathing areas, although usually they were separated by only a short distance. The style of machines at different resorts also varied: some followed the Margate model with a collapsible canvas hood at the sea end, while many along the Sussex coast were built in the tall sentry box style with a narrow doorway and large wheels. Inside, most machines were simply furnished with a wooden bench, a mirror and high pegs or hooks for hanging clothes and hats.

Changing tents and beach huts
After decades of Victorian prudery, from the 1890s beachgoers demanded a return of mixed bathing, inspired by the liberal ambience at French and other Continental resorts. Both men and women were by now suitably clothed for swimming in dedicated bathing attire and strict segregation seemed unnecessary. Ultimately, economic factors prompted the development of shared beach facilities, the first mixed bathing resorts developing at Llandudno, Cromer, Paignton and other resorts that did not want to lose their wealthy patrons to foreign rivals. Although considered rather daring at first, it was also becoming acceptable to cross the beach wearing a swimsuit, so private machines for changing and entering the water began to grow outmoded. By the turn of the century canvas changing tents appeared on beaches – initially round military-style bell-tents, and later clusters of tents of varying shapes, some coloured and striped. Erected by local councils or privately by local entrepreneurs, they were hired by the day or for longer periods. During the early 1900s most beaches offered both movable machines and fixed tents, to cater for all preferences.

Traditional machines lingered on in a few resorts during the 1920s and 1930s, the last relics disappearing with the Second World War. In some locations the wheels of old bathing machines were removed and they became stationery beach huts. The first row of wooden cabins or huts appeared beside the beach in Felixstowe c1895, although it was between the wars that beach huts, bungalows and chalets (terminology is blurred) really came to characterise the British seaside resort. The increased mobility of the population, partly due to the steady increase in private car ownership, along with provision of more leisure time for many working people, meant that holidaymakers were no longer limited to major resorts on the train routes, and could explore further along the coast and take longer breaks. Some beach huts and chalets were erected by local corporations, while others were provided by hotels for their guests; many were – and still are today – owned by local residents. The timeless ‘home from home’ attraction of gaily painted seaside huts with chairs, tea-brewing facilities and storage for beach equipment has brought fame to picturesque resorts such as Southwold and ensures that, even in these times of global travel, we can still enjoy something of the traditional British seaside holiday.