Ellen Nye Chart was the sole manager of Brighton’s Theatre Royal for 16 years, during which she transformed its fortunes from a respected local institution to one of national standing. On her death in 1892, her funeral was the largest the town had ever seen, with many hundreds lining the streets to pay their respects.
Ellen Rollinson, born in Islington, was a builder’s daughter who became an actress at a young age. She met and married Henry Nye Chart, the actor turned manager of the Theatre Royal Brighton, whilst playing leading roles on tour in 1867. His death nine years later left her a widow at 35 with a young child. After her marriage she had already assumed responsibility for the control of the events behind the curtain as well as continuing to act with the company. From 1876, she took over the sole management of the theatre and proved herself to be an astute businesswoman, transforming the business with her innovative ideas.

She made her last appearance on the stage on 9th April 1879. Two nights had been announced for her benefit, but such was the competition for seats that a third night had to be added.
She introduced a year round programme rather than just the summer season, thus ensuring the theatre was more accessible to and catering for locals, not just visiting gentry. She drew stars like Lily Langtry, Sarah Bernhardt, Charles Wyndham and Henry Irving to Brighton and helped to establish the town as a successful and high quality resort. Whole visiting companies came more often to the theatre, instead of just visiting stars playing with the local company, and from1883 matinee performances were inaugurated. Mrs Nye Chart improvised the arrangement of bringing a whole production from London, often with a star cast, scenery and costumes, to give an afternoon performance before heading back to London for the eveningshow. Their success meant they were continued by subsequent managements, and became known as ‘flying matinees’.
She also introduced elaborate annual pantomimes – modelled on those of the Drury Lane Theatre and the most profitable feature of the season. Every year she invited all the inmates and staff of the Brighton Workhouse – over 1,000 people – to watch the pantos for free. After their visit in 1888 they presented her with an illuminated address which ended ‘Many of us will, on the next reoccurrence of your invitation, be in the world of shadows, but when we meet at the last great transformation scene, the things which you have done for the poor and friendless will be written in letters of gold above your head.’

Under her management, the Theatre Royal was turned round from a respected but financially insecure local enterprise to a thriving and stable one with a national presence.. At the start of her tenure, the estate was valued at under £1,500 with an outstanding mortgage on the Theatre Royal. By 1888 she had paid off both the £6,000 mortgage, and a £1,600 mortgage on her home at No 9 New Road. By her death her estate was valued at £37,916 14s 4d.
She had also placed the theatre on a more permanent footing by forming a limited liability company with a Board of Directors and an authorized capital of £30,000, which registered on the Stock Exchange in 1889. Mrs Nye Chart was appointed Joint Managing Director with Henry John Infield, who was also the Chairman – a post he held till 1921. Tellingly, his remuneration was £208 pa vs £416 for Mrs Nye Chart. The company traded very profitably and with healthy dividends until her death, despite a programme of redecoration and improvements.
On the last night of the pantomime Cinderella in February 1891 Mrs Nye Chart was able to promise the audience from the stage ‘that there was scarcely a London novelty then running which would not come to Brighton in the present year’.
She was well liked in Brighton, and when she died in 1892, her funeral was the largest the town had ever seen, with many hundreds lining the streets to say farewell.
Commenting on the funeral, the Brighton Herald wrote: ‘That so busy and bustling a spirit should have been extinguished at so early an age is a source of deep regret to all those connected directly or indirectly with the Theatre, to a number of poor persons in the town whom she was want to befriend, and to a wide circle of friends, both in and out of Brighton, and in and out of the theatrical profession.’