Many days did not pass away before Edward and Lewis had made themselves
pretty well acquainted with the town of Brighton; its principal
streets, public buildings, squares, esplanades, &c.
Mr. Ashton was obliged to leave his family sooner than he had
anticipated; but the little boys ever found a friend and companion in
their affectionate mother, ready to enter into their plans, and assist
them in any difficulty.
The children spent much of their time out of doors, but sometimes it
happened, that their mamma was not at liberty to accompany them; or,
worse than all, the weather would not permit their leaving the house;
and there was then little passing in the streets. At such times the
question was, “What shall we do to amuse and employ ourselves? If we
were at home, we could look at some of the large books of prints in
the library, or read some of our own, or play with our historical or
geographical games.”
At last mamma thought of a plan, and the boys agreed that it would be
a very good one. Edward and Lewis were each provided with a little
book, in which they intended to write an account of any thing that
interested them, during their stay at Brighton, Mrs. Ashton promising
to assist them with any information in her power; and thus they were
furnished with amusement and instruction for many a leisure hour. Then
came the comparison of the memorandums each had made.
Lewis found Edward had mentioned many things that had never entered
his little giddy head; at any rate, he seemed to think them not
worth remembering. Perhaps you would have thought Lewis’s history
the most entertaining; but then there were many blotted leaves, and
sentences left unfinished. Often, when he was seated at the table,
intending to write very industriously, the sound of a horn, or of a
passing vehicle, would draw him to the window; then he must wait to
see the passengers mount, and the coach start: then a gay party on
horseback would pass, or a pretty little chaise drawn by a goat, till
he found it very difficult to recall his scattered thoughts; and the
memorandum-book stood a poor chance of coming in for a share of his
attention. He really was sorry, however, when he compared his brother’s
neatly written pages with his own, and thought how much more pleasure
his papa would have in looking at them.
“Edward,” said he, one day, looking over his brother’s shoulder, “where
did you learn all this about the early history of Brighton?”
Edward confessed that he should have known very little about it, if his
mamma had not assisted him, and pointed out the accounts in some of the
books at the library.
Lewis looked half ashamed; for he recollected that he had had the same
opportunity of gaining information.
“Now, Edward,” said he, drawing his chair close to the table, “you
shall tell me all you can about it; but I will not promise to write it
all in my manuscript book; only the most entertaining things.”
Edward was pleased with the office Lewis had chosen for him.
“First, then,” said he, “I must tell you that Brighton, or more
properly Brighthelmstone, is of Saxon origin; for it is said, the
Saxons invaded it in the fifth century, and afterwards settled here. It
is said, also, that it took its name from Brighthelm, a Saxon chief,
to whom Ella, the invader, gave the place. Many years afterwards it
was possessed by the family of Godwin, earl of Kent, and from him it
descended to his son Harold.”
“Ah! poor king Harold,” said Lewis, “I recollect he was killed in
the battle of Hastings, while he was fighting against William the
Conqueror. I think I shall write something about that famous battle.”
Edward thought it would be well to do so, because the battle was
fought on that very coast, and because Brighton changed masters in
consequence; for William the Conqueror gave all poor king Harold’s
possessions to his son-in-law, William de Warren.
“Perhaps,” Edward said, “you will not think it worth while to notice
the next thing my book mentions; which is, that a charter for a weekly
market was obtained for the town of Brighton, in 1313.”
Lewis thought it was a sign of its being, even at so early a period, a
place of some consequence; and supposed it had been getting larger and
richer ever since, until it had grown into what they saw it.
Edward told him he was in a great hurry to finish the story; but that
the thievish Danes had no mind for letting Brighton alone so quietly,
whilst it remained open to their attacks, and offered so fair a
prospect for their enriching themselves. After the Danes, the French
made frequent warlike incursions on this line of coast, plundering and
shedding blood wherever they appeared.
“But,” asked Lewis, “why did not the people do something to keep away
these troublesome Frenchmen? If they let them come quietly and take
away their property, I think they were poor tame things, and did not
deserve much pity.”
“Ah! but you are mistaken there,” said Edward: “though their king,
Edward III., was engaged in a war in France, and had left his own
country undefended, the people here established a protective guard of
their own: they were some of the bravest men among the seamen and
inhabitants, and mounted on their fleet horses, they were ready at a
moment’s call, when danger was apprehended.”
“Many years after this, during the war between Henry VIII. and Louis
XII., the French appeared on the coast, with the intention of burning
Brighton. Soon, however, the beacons were lighted; and the people
seeing them, far and near, came together in such numbers, that the
French thought it best to take themselves off without putting their
cruel plan into execution. Queen Elizabeth afterwards granted some
money to the town of Brighton, with which land was purchased, and a
building made to hold their stores and ammunition: beside this, she
ordered four strong gates to be built, leading from the cliff to the
town beneath it, and a high wall of flints, which extended on both
sides of the storehouse.”
“Well,” said Lewis, “I think they were pretty well off then, and had no
need to fear the French, or any other foes.”
Edward said he thought it was much better to live in peaceable days,
such as they lived in, and to have no foes to fear. “But see, Lewis!”
he exclaimed, “mamma is coming across the Steyne, and she has something
in her hand: who will be there first, to see what it can be? Never mind
the history now; you can have my book in the evening.”
Lewis soon forgot the history and all belonging to it, and was at his
mother’s side.