RAILWAY LITERATURE.

W. H. Smith, the originator of the enormous traffic in the sale and

loan of books, and in the sale of newspapers and periodicals, in

connection with our extended railway system, was born on the 7th

of July, 1792. As he was, from early years, intended for entirely

different pursuits from that which he eventually followed, he cannot

be said to have received a special business training. While still a

boy, family circumstances rendered it desirable that he should take the

control of a small newspaper establishment at the West End of London,

and though his inclinations were decidedly opposed to a petty trade

of this nature, he made duty paramount to likings or dislikings, and

gave all his attention to his business. In a short time he was able

to move to a larger shop in the Strand, and here he added the sale

of stationery to the newspaper traffic. At that time the mails were

conveyed from London by coaches leaving at night only, so that the

morning papers could not be received in Liverpool or Manchester until

forty-eight hours after publication. Smith now conceived the idea of

forwarding the newspapers by express parcels by the coaches leaving

London in the morning, and as these coaches generally left before the

delivery of the morning papers, he kept a relay of swift, long-legged

horses, which started as soon as the papers came to hand, and caught

up the coaches where they could. By this means he actually secured the

delivery of the news in the large Northern towns four-and-twenty hours

in advance of the mail. For some years the returns from this business

were altogether inadequate to the cost and trouble incurred, and many

men would have abandoned so desperate an enterprise, but Smith had

faith in the scheme, and his perseverance was rewarded by the largest

newspaper business in Europe. His attention was almost entirely given

to the newspaper branch of his trade, and after a time everything else

gave way to it.

When railways first began to supersede coaches, Smith at once availed

himself of the new facilities thus afforded in the transit of his

newspapers. Up to 1848 no systematic arrangements had been made to

supply passengers at the stations with either papers or books. The

privilege of satisfying public requirements had not been regarded as

possessing any value, and the only idea those who had the right of

selling books there put into actual execution was to avoid all risk

whatsoever in providing for their possible customers. The result was,

of course, very far from satisfactory, and it occurred to Smith, in

1848, to tender for the exclusive right of vending books and papers on

the Birmingham Railway. The general satisfaction which this innovation

afforded, induced the Directors of other companies to open the way to

similar arrangements, and thus the newspaper trade of W. H. Smith

and Son (for he had by this time taken his son into partnership), was

established at almost every station of importance in the kingdom; but

the original cost of organization was enormous, and two or three years

elapsed before any actual profit was realised.

Soon, of course, at the railway stalls, books as well as papers were

vended, and the special requirements of passengers called into being

several cheap series of light works of fiction, calculated to while

away the tedium of a railway journey. By degrees, too, a circulating

library was formed and extended, and, as Smith and Son possessed

unparalleled advantages in the way of cheap transit of goods, and in

their already-established branches, extending throughout the kingdom

wherever the iron horse had previously cleared the way, they were able

to supplement Mudie’s Library most efficiently.

In 1852 W. H. Smith, senior, first felt the symptoms of a diseased

heart, and in 1854 he retired from business altogether, spending the

remainder of his days at his country residence at Bournemouth, and here

he died on the 28th of July, 1855.

Upon Mr. W. H. Smith, son of the founder, the business now devolved,

and, while extending its ramifications in all directions, he found time

and opportunity to embrace a career of more general utility. Elected by

the householders of Westminster as a member of the House of Commons, to

the exclusion of Mr. J. S. Mill, he has won the good opinions of all

parties by the active part he has always taken in Metropolitan matters,

and by the staunchness with which he has defended the privileges of

London citizens. The confidence of the public was again expressed in

his favour when he was chosen a member of the School Board for London.

It is understood that of late years a great part of the management of

the business establishment has devolved upon Mr. Lethbridge, the junior

member of the firm.

As we have already, in our chapter on Mr. Mudie, devoted ourselves

especially to the circulating library, we will endeavour here to give

only a short account of the newspaper business of W. H. Smith and Son.

If we walk down the Strand at four o’clock in the morning, we find

the whole street deserted and dull until we reach a row of red carts,

bearing the name of the firm. When, however, we enter the establishment

by which they are waiting, all is business and bustle. The interior

of the large building is, in shape, not unlike a bee-hive; the

ground-floor forms, as it were, the pit, and the two galleries the

boxes, of a theatre. In these galleries nearly two hundred men and boys

are already busy folding papers.

At five o’clock the “dailies” begin to arrive, and the advent of the

_Times_ is hailed with a consternation of enthusiasm. The huge bundles

are fiercely attacked, and folded off in a shorter time than one

could imagine possible; and then the _Telegraph_, _Daily News_, and

_Standard_ are assaulted. As soon as the folding has been partially

completed, a portion of the assistants are told off to make the proper

assortment for each country place, and each packer has now a boy to

wait upon him, who shouts out his individual wants.

At the door the carts are waiting ready to drive off with the parcels

to the different railway termini, and by about a quarter to six all the

first trains out of London are supplied, and in less than two hours the

whole kingdom has been fed with morning newspapers, including between

20,000 and 30,000 copies of the _Times_.

This scene occurs every week-day morning, but on Friday afternoon,

on the arrival of the weekly papers, the bustle of business is even

greater, and the parcels (those for the post only) are removed by

fourteen vans sent from the General Post Office.

In connection with the “Railway Libraries,” it may be interesting to

learn something of the publisher who has identified them with his

business. Mr. George Routledge is a native of Cumberland--a county,

perhaps, as much as any other, famous for the commercial success of its

natives--who, after serving his apprenticeship at Carlisle, came up to

London, and obtained employment in the house of Baldwin and Craddock.

Soon, however, he opened a little shop of his own in Ryder’s Court,

Leicester Square, for the sale of cheap and second-hand books. Here,

however, at first he had much spare time on his hands, and he managed

to procure a subordinate position in the Tithe Office. The work was

not heavy, and the extra salary enabled him to increase his legitimate

business. During the holiday time granted him by the Office, he made

two or three journeys of exploration into the country, and found that

a wide field existed there for a venturous and indomitable bookseller.

Accordingly, he set to work to buy remainders, and having by degrees

established agencies in the country, the young and almost unknown

bookseller of Ryder’s Court was able to compete in the auction-rooms,

and generally with success, against Mr. Bohn and other influential

members of the trade--much to their astonishment, and not a little to

their consternation. It was now time to give up the aid of the Tithe

Office, and in 1845 Mr. Routledge moved to larger premises in Soho

Square, and in 1848 Mr. William Warne, his brother-in-law, and for

long his assistant, was admitted into partnership, being joined by Mr.

F. Warne, three years later, when the firm moved again to Farringdon

Street.

While at Soho Square, the publications of Messrs. Routledge and Warne

had consisted chiefly of reprints, and here the remainder trade had

been vastly extended, but now they began to enter into direct dealings

with noted authors on a scale that fully equalled the transactions of

the first publishing firms. Perhaps the boldest of their early ventures

was the offer of £20,000 to Sir E. Bulwer Lytton for the right of

issuing a cheap series of his works for the term of ten years, from

1853-1863. In spite of the enormous outlay they were very willing, on

the expiry of the time, to take a fresh lease of the popular volumes;

so that an offer originally deemed by the trade to be Quixotic, if not

ruinous, must have reaped the success that its liberality and boldness

deserved; and by their association with Sir E. Bulwer Lytton, a great

_prestige_ was at once acquired. Similar arrangements were made with

other distinguished novelists, nearly all of whom we have met before

in our previous article on Colburn--Mr. G. P. R. James, Mr. Disraeli,

Mr. Harrison Ainsworth, and Mr. Howard Russell; while these successful

re-issues were quickly followed by the publication of original works by

Mayne Reed, Grant, and others, and by the first English edition of many

of Prescott’s and Longfellow’s productions.

The various popular series known as the “Railway Library,” the “Popular

Library,” &c., comprising many hundred volumes of standard works,

afforded the chief business at Smith’s bookstalls, and were, through

Mr. Routledge’s complete network of agents and connections, scattered

broadcast over the country. Among the first books they brought out at a

shilling were the works of Fenimore Cooper, Captain Marryat, Washington

Irving, and Mrs. Stowe. Of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” half-a-million copies

are said to have been sold. Of Russell’s “Narrative of the Crimean

War,” 20,000; of Soyer’s “Shilling Cookery,” 250,000; and of “Rarey on

Horse Training,” 150,000 copies were disposed of in a very few weeks.

As an example of the energy and enterprise of the firm, it is stated

that when the copy of “Queechy” was received upon one Monday morning,

it was at once placed in the printer’s hands; on Thursday the sheets

were at the binder’s, and on the Monday following 20,000 copies had

been disposed of to the trade.

Besides these cheap works, Mr. Routledge has issued a multitude of more

expensive volumes, illustrated by the best artists, and “got up” in the

most luxurious styles. Among these it will be enough here to mention

his numerous Shakespeares, Wood’s “Natural History” and Wood’s “Natural

History of Man,” and Routledge’s “English Poets.” How extensive the

Fine Art business of the firm must have been may be gathered from the

fact that before 1855 they had paid one engraving house--the Messrs.

Dalziel Brothers--upwards of £50,000.

In 1854, Mr. Routledge established a branch house at New York, and

in 1865, Mr. F. Warne--his brother had previously died--on the

termination of the partnership, established a fresh business in Bedford

Street, Covent Garden. With his two sons--Mr. Robert and Mr. Edmund

Routledge--the founder now carries on the business at Broadway, Ludgate

Hill, having removed thither when the railway improvements took place

in Farringdon Street.

NOTE.--For these statistics and much of our sketch we are

indebted to a writer in the _Bookseller_, who “obtained the

information from trustworthy sources.”

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

_PROVINCIAL BOOKSELLERS._

_York_: _Gent and Burdekin._

_Newcastle_: _Goading, Bryson, Bewick, and Charnley._

_Glasgow_: _Fowlis and Collins._

_Liverpool_: _Johnson._

_Dublin_: _Duffy._

_Derby_: _Mozley, Richardson, and Bemrose._

_Manchester_: _Harrop, Barker, Timperley, and the Heywoods._

_Birmingham_: _Hutton, Baskerville, and “The Educational

Trading Co.”_

_Exeter_: _Brice._

_Bristol_: _Cottle._

In this short chapter on provincial bookselling, we shall be

necessarily obliged to confine our notice to those representatives

of the trade in the larger country towns who were characteristically

as well as bibliopolically famous--who, with their native talent,

determination, and endurance, would have succeeded in any walk of life,

had they not, fortunately for the interest of our history, embraced the

profession of bookselling.

In old days, York was the natural capital of the North of England; a

position acquired, of course, in times of ecclesiastical supremacy,

but still retained for centuries after the Reformation. When the cost

and difficulty of transit were great, the country folk looked to their

own capital cities to supply them with literary food, and the annals

of bookselling at York go back to nearly as ancient a date as those of

London; and, indeed, Thomas Gent, whom we select as our representative

of the York booksellers, might have figured in the earlier portion of

our introductory chapter, had he not been reserved for a more fitting

place here.

Thomas Gent, though of a Staffordshire family, was born in Dublin, and

was apprenticed by his parents, poor though industrious people, to a

printer in that city. In 1710, after three years’ brutal treatment from

his employers, he ran away to London, where, as he was not a freeman of

the city, he lived upon what he calls “smouting work” for four years,

and then accepted a situation with Mr. White of York, who, as a reward

for printing the Prince of Orange’s declaration when all the London

printers were afraid, had been created King’s printer for York and

five other counties. White must have enjoyed plenty of business, there

being few printers out of London at that time--“None,” says Gent, “I am

sure at Chester, Liverpool, Whitehaven, Preston, Manchester, Kendal,

and Leeds.” When Gent, terminating his long walk from London, arrived

at York, the door was opened by “Mistress White’s head maiden, who is

now my dear spouse,” but he had to wait nearly as long a time as Jacob

served for Rachel before he could claim “my dearest.”

Gent was as happy in York as he could well be, was earning money and

respected by all, when his parents bade him come back to Dublin, and

what made his departure grievous?--“I scarce knew, however, through

respect of Mrs. Alice Guy.... Indeed I was not very forward in love

or desire of matrimony till I knew the world better, and consequently

should be more able to provide such a handsome maintenance as I confess

I had ambition enough to desire.... However, I told her (because my

irresolution should not anticipate her advancement) that I should

respect her as one of the dearest of friends; and receiving a little

dog from her, as a companion on the road, I had the honour to be

accompanied as far as Bramham Moor by my rival” (his master’s grandson).

At Dublin he was soon threatened with seizure for having broken his

apprenticeship, and though his friends offered to buy his freedom, he

had received a letter from his dearest at York, saying he was expected

there, and he could not resist the opportunity of meeting her again.

His friends were much concerned at parting with him so soon, “but

my unlucky whelp that had torn my new hat to pieces seemed no wise

affected by my taking boat; so I let the rascal stay with my dear

parents, who were fond of him for my sake, as he was of them for his

own.”

After a stay of a few months at York, he came to London, resolved to

scrape and save money enough to warrant him offering a home to “Mrs.

Alice Guy,” and in 1817 he became free of the City of London, and set

to work in grim earnest, “many times from five in the morning till

twelve at night, and frequently without food from breakfast till five

or six in the evening, through hurry with hawkers;” for at times he

was in a ballad-house, now toiling at case, now writing “last words

and confessions,” now reporting sermons “for a crown piece and a

pair of breeches”--(profitable penny-a-lining that!)--again printing

treasonable papers, for which he was seized by the authorities;

and pirating and abridging “Robinson Crusoe,” the first part of

which appeared in 1717, for which greater crime he went scot free.

Occasionally he went home, but scarcely found it worth his while to

stay in Dublin, and his parents’ “melting tears caused mine to flow,

and bedewed my pillow every night after that I lodged with them. ‘What,

Tommy,’ my mother would sometimes say, ‘this English damsel of yours,

I suppose, is the chiefest reason why you slight us and your native

country! Well,’ added she, ‘the ways of Providence are unsearchable.’”

Gent, however, “provident overmuch,” made the heart of his English

damsel sick with hope deferred--and “yet” he writes, “I could not well

help it. I had a little money, it is very true, but no certain home

wherein to invite her. I knew she was well fixed; and it pierced me

to the very heart to think if through any miscarriage or misfortune I

should alter her condition for the worse instead of the better. Upon

this account my letters to her at this time were not so amorously

obliging as they ought to have been from a sincere lover; by which she

had reason, however she might have been mistaken, to think that I had

failed in my part of those tender engagements which had passed between

us.”

After serving some time with Watts, Tonson’s printing partner, and

also with Henry Woodfall, founder of a long line of famous printers,

he purchased a quantity of old type from Mist, the proprietor of the

well-known journal, and just as he was conning over his matrimonial

prospects, “one Sunday morning as my shoes were japanning by a little

boy at the end of the lane, there came Mr. John Hoyle. ‘Mr. Gent,’ said

he, ‘I have been at York to see my parents, and am but just as it were

returned to London. I am heartily glad to see you, but sorry to tell

you that you have lost your old sweetheart; for I assure you that she

is really married to your rival, Mr. Bourne.’ I was so thunderstruck

that I could scarcely return an answer.”

In this grief he betook himself to the Muse, and as he had formerly

earned the title of the Bellman’s Poet, he indicted the “Forsaken

Lover’s Letter to his Former Sweetheart,” to a tune “much in request,

and proper for the flute;” and not caring that his master should know

of his great disappointment, he gave the copy to Mr. Dodd, “who,

printing the same, sold thousands of them, for which he offered me a

price; but as it was on my own proper concern, I scorned to accept of

anything except a glass of comfort or so.” “Proper concerns” in the

shape of heartaches, disappointments, and miseries, have been traded

in to better purpose by less modest singers, but Gent’s mental anguish

seems sincere; he “was then worn down to a shadow,” and weary of his

endless and now purposeless struggle. Work, however, a palliative if

not a cure, was again eagerly resorted to, and Gent found employment

first with Mr. Samuel Richardson, and afterwards, and more permanently,

with Mrs. Dodd. Here he continued till on another “Sunday morning

Mr. Philip Wood, a quondam partner of Mr. Midwinter’s, entering my

chambers--‘Tommy,’ said he, ‘all these fine material of yours must be

moved to York,’ at which, wondering, ‘What mean you?’ said I. ‘Ay,’

said he,’ ‘and you must go to, without it’s your own fault; for your

first sweetheart is now at liberty, and left in good circumstances by

her dear spouse, deceased but of late.’ ‘I pray heaven,’ answered I,

‘that his precious soul may be happy; and for aught I know it may be

as you say, for indeed I think I may not trifle with a widow, as I

have formerly done with a maid.’” So he paid forthwith his coach fare

down to York, and found his dearest much altered, for he had not seen

her these ten years. There was no need of new courtship, “but decency

suspended the ceremony of marriage for some time, till my dearest,

considering the ill-consequence of delay in her business, as well as

the former ties of love that passed innocently between us, by word and

writing, gave full consent to have the nuptials celebrated.”

But, alas! when he became a master instead of a servant, and she a

mistress instead of a maid, he found her “temper much altered from

that sweet natural softness and most tender affection that rendered

her so amiable to me while I was more juvenile and she a widow. My

dear’s uncle, White, as he calls himself, who, as the only printer

in Newcastle, had heaped up riches,” was angry that he had not been

chosen to manage his niece’s shop, and actually came to York to found

a rival establishment. Gent started a paper, and, though he persevered

in its publication for many years, he was at length out-rivalled by

White. In the publication of books he was much more successful. In

1726 he printed some books “learnedly translated into English by John

Clarke, a schoolmaster in Hull,” as well as two editions of Erasmus.

But the works by which he acquired most money and reputation were

written as well as published by himself--“The Famous History of the

City of York,” “History of the Loyal Town of Ripon,” and the “History

of the Royal and Beautiful Town of Kingstown-upon-Hill.” At this time

his business is thus described by a card still existing:--“Within his

well-contrived office aforesaid printing is performed in a curious and

judicious manner, having sets of fine characters for the Greek, Latin,

English, Mathematics, &c. He sells the histories of Rome, France,

England, particularly of this ancient City, Aynsty, and extensive

County, in five volumes; likewise a book of the holy life of St.

Winnifred, and her wonderful Cambrian fountain. He has stimulated an

ingenious founder to cast such musical types, for the common press, as

never yet were exhibited; and has prepared a new edition of his York

History against the time when the few remaining copies of that first

and large impression are disposed off.” He died, however, at York in

1778, in his eighty-seventh year, in somewhat reduced circumstances,

solely, he alleges, through the animosity of his uncle White. The

manuscript of his interesting autobiography was discovered casually

in Ireland, and was published only in 1832. From its quaintness and

simplicity, above all from its minuteness of detail, it is evident

enough where the abridger of “Robinson Crusoe” borrowed his manner and

style; and the reader will probably not quarrel with us for having

given as much of the narrative as possible in the author’s own words.

Chief among the more recent York booksellers was Richard Burdekin, who

died only twelve years since. In his younger days he was a traveller to

the local firm of Wilson & Sons, who at the beginning of the century

were well known as publishers of the works of Lindley Murray, which

are said at that time to have achieved an annual sale of 100,000

copies. What Burdekin’s efforts in his masters’ service were, we can

gather from the fact that he rode his favourite horse 30,000 miles

in search of orders, which in a short time doubled the receipts of

his employers. Soon he joined Spence in an old-established business,

and eventually became senior partner of the firm. His trade extended

to forty miles round York, and for fifty-five years he continued to

sell, and in a lesser degree to publish, such books as might suit the

inhabitants of the three ridings.

We have seen that Gent describes his dear’s uncle White as having

heaped up riches as the only Newcastle printer. He could, however,

scarcely have been the only printer there, for we find that even when

Charles I. made Newcastle his headquarters he brought with him Robert

Barker, who had, as we have elsewhere noticed, enjoyed certain patents

under the two preceding monarchs. If there were no previous printers

at Newcastle in Barker’s time, one, at least, must have started very

shortly afterwards, for in 1656 we find the death of “James Chantler,

bookseller,” recorded, and in those times the booksellers were mainly

supplied from local sources.

From Chantler’s time we find that books and stationery were the staple

commodities of Tyne Bridge, and for nearly a couple of centuries the

“brigg” has been a favourite resort of the trade. We find the names of

Randell, Maplisden, Linn, and Akenhead occurring in the list of the

Newcastle Stationers’ Company; and at the close of 1746 John Goading

printed the first number of the _Newcastle General Magazine_. “For too

long,” said the preface, “had the northern climes been deprived of a

repository of learning; too long had those geniuses that now began to

shine been consealed in darkness for want of a proper channel to convey

their productions into light;” but in 1760 the northern geniuses were

again “consealed in darkness,” for the magazine came to an end. Four

years later, however, Thomas Slack founded the _Newcastle Chronicle_,

which has gone on continuously to the present day, being now one of the

very best daily papers out of London. To its columns we are indebted

for much of the preceding.

Goading had continued his general publishing business with some energy,

and in 1751 he issued Blenerhasset’s “History of England”--from the

landing of the Phœnicians to the death of George I.--and in his list of

subscribers we find no less than eight Newcastle booksellers, one of

whom was Martin Bryson, the friend and correspondent of Allan Ramsay,

the Scotch poet and Edinburgh bookseller, who addressed a letter to him

in rhyme--

“To Martin Bryson, on Tyne Brigg,

An upright, downright, honest Whig.”

Bryson’s name occurs on a title-page as early as 1722. His house and

stock were destroyed by the great Newcastle fire of 1750, and after

this occurrence he took, William Charnley, the son of a Penrith

haberdasher and one of his many apprentices, into partnership.

To diverge for a moment from this pedigree of bibliopoles, we come to

by far the greatest name connected in any way with the production of

books at Newcastle--that, of course, of Thomas Bewick; and though his

life belongs more properly to the history of engraving, for many years

the books that were illustrated by his pencil gave the northern town

such a world-wide reputation that we feel justified in devoting a page

or two to his memory.

Thomas Bewick was born at Cherryburn, twelve miles to the west of

Newcastle, in 1753, receiving a limited, but as far as it went a

thorough education; his genius displayed itself in early childish

days by such chalk drawings on barn-walls and stable-doors as have

almost invariably discovered the bent of youthful artistic genius. At

the age of fifteen he was apprenticed to Mr. Beilby, of Newcastle, an

engraver in copper-plate, and though Beilby’s business lay rather in

the production of brass door-plates, and the emblazoning of spoons and

watches, than in Fine Art illustrations, the master soon appreciated

and encouraged his pupil’s wonderful talents. During the period of

his apprenticeship, young Bewick paid only ninepence a week for his

lodging, and brought back a coarse brown loaf in every weekly visit to

his home at Cherryburn. As soon as his term of seven years had expired,

he still continued in Beilby’s service, but devoted himself henceforth

to wood-engraving. Shortly afterwards he received a premium from the

Society of Arts for a woodcut of the “Huntsman and the Old Hound,”

and this induced him in the following year to go to London in quest

of labour and fortune, but he found the metropolis so little to his

liking that he writes home: “I would rather be herding sheep on Mickley

Bank-top than remain in London, although for doing so I was to be made

the premier of England.” With his distaste for town life and his strong

love for the country--for its scenery changing with every season, for

its living forms of animal and plant life, for all, in short, that

incessantly appealed to a wonderful artistic instinct, Bewick was

easily persuaded by his old master, Beilby, to return to Newcastle, and

enter into partnership with him--his brother John becoming their joint

apprentice. The publication of the illustrations to “Gay’s Fables,” and

the “Select Fables,” by the brothers, spread their reputation far and

wide, and placed them far above competition in the art. In 1785, Thomas

Bewick began the cuts for his “History of Quadrupeds,” though the work

was not completed and published until 1790. The “text,” or literary

matter, was contributed by his partner, Beilby, but it was of course on

account of the illustrations that three large editions were called for

within three years. In this successful venture, the two partners were

associated with a printer of the name of Hodgson, and unfortunately,

after his death, the arrangement was made the grounds of dispute by

his widow, and Bewick was compelled to remove the printing of the work

to another establishment. In 1797 appeared the first volume of the

“History of British Birds,” and almost immediately afterwards, Beilby

retired from the partnership, leaving Bewick to produce and compile

the work alone. The tail-pieces in the first edition of the Birds

are considered Bewick’s _chefs d’œuvres_--as Professor Wilson says,

“There is a moral in every tail-piece--a sermon in every vignette....

His books lie on our parlour, bed-room, dining-room, drawing-room and

study tables, and are never out of place or time. Happy old man! The

delight of childhood, manhood, decaying age!” After founding a famous

school for wood-engravers at Newcastle--William Harvey was among his

pupils--Bewick died in 1828, leaving the business to his son, Mr. R. E.

Bewick.

Charnley left Bryson in 1755, and started a circulating library of 2000

volumes, the subscription being twelve shillings a year, and though

this method of disseminating books had only been practised in London

within the previous twenty years, we find that one Barba, who dabbled

likewise in prints and tea, had already been for some years in the

field. When Bryson died, Charnley succeeded to his business on the

bridge, and after having been washed out by an overflow of the river,

he removed to safer premises in the Great Market in 1777. Charnley died

in 1803. An anecdote connected with him is still gleefully told by the

Newcastle pitmen, and is worth repeating. He was deaf and obliged to

use an ear-trumpet; and on being accosted by a collier, he clapped, as

usual, his instrument to his ear, in order to catch the words. “Nay,

man,” cried the pitman, not to be imposed upon; “thou’s not gaun to mak

me believe thou can play that trumpet wi’ thy lug!”

Emerson Charnley succeeded his father, and was styled by Dibdin

“the veteran emperor of Northumbrian booksellers;” till 1860 this

old established business remained in the family, when it became the

property of Mr. William Dodd, for many years its manager.

We have already referred so often to the Scotch publishers, that we can

only find room for Glasgow as representing the Scotch provincial trade.

Printing was introduced there in the year 1630 by George Anderson,

who was succeeded in 1661 by Robert Saunders, and the whole printing

business of the West of Scotland (except one newspaper) was carried on

by Saunders and his son until 1730, when the art was further improved

by R. Uric. Five years later it appears from Morrison’s “Dictionary

of Decisions of the Court of Sessions” that a new comer “was debarred

from any concern in bookselling within the city of Glasgow, because

the place was judged too narrow for two booksellers at a time.” In the

teeth of this arbitrary decision Robert Fowlis, who as a young barber

had attracted the notice of some of the university professors, and had

been encouraged to attend the lectures, opened a book-shop in 1739. In

1743 he was appointed printer to the university, and in the following

year he produced his celebrated immaculate edition of “Horace,” which

was hung up on the college walls with a reward appended for every

mistake discovered. In the course of thirty years they produced as many

well printed classics as Bodoni of Parma, or Barbon of Paris, and their

books, in exactness and beauty of type, almost rival the Aldine series.

They endeavoured to devote the money which their success brought them

in to the establishment of an academy for the cultivation of the Fine

Arts, but this grand, and then novel, project produced their ruin,

without in any way affecting the artistic taste of Scotland. After

the death of his younger brother, Robert was compelled to send the

collection of pictures to London for sale, and as he was in immediate

want of money he insisted upon the auction taking place at a time when

the picture market was glutted. The sale catalogue forms three volumes,

and yet after all expenses were defrayed the balance in his favour

amounted only to fifteen shillings. He died on his way back to Glasgow

in 1776.

The bookselling and book-manufacturing trades have changed strangely

in Glasgow, since the time when the city was judged “too narrow” for

two booksellers. At present these branches of industry are only

surpassed in Edinburgh, and one Glasgow establishment at least is

without a parallel in London. Messrs. Collins, Son, and Co., actually

give employment to about seven hundred hands. The ground-floor of

their immense building is devoted to the warehousing of paper,

account-books, copy-books and general stationery. On the main floor of

the establishment one hundred binders are constantly at work, and on

the floor above the folding and sewing of the sheets is executed by

two hundred girls and women. In the rear stands the engine-house and

printing office where sixteen platten and cylinder typographic machines

are kept working at full steam, upon dictionaries, school-books,

Bibles, prayer-books, devotional, and other publications. Seven

lithographic machines are constantly employed upon atlases and

their celebrated copy-books, and it has been found that the finest

lithographic work can be better executed by the machine than, as till

very recently, at press. Everything is done on the premises, which

extend from Stirling’s Road to Heriot Hill, except making the paper and

casting the type.[32]

As further proof of the magnitude of the business, we may quote a

recent statement of Mr. Henderson, one of the partners. In 1869 there

were “issued from the letter-press section of the establishment, no

fewer than 1,352,421 printed and bound works--equal to about 4500 per

day, or 450 passing through the hands of the workers every working

hour.”

Little more than a hundred years ago the great seaport town of

Liverpool was a little fishing village, and, consequently, the

bookselling trade there is of a very recent growth. Among the first

important members of the fraternity were Darton and Freer; but perhaps

the most famous Liverpool bibliopole of his day was Thomas Johnson.

He started in Dale Street, in 1829, with a stock of books only large

enough to fill the bottom shelves of his window; and at the back of his

shop, scarce hidden, he kept his bed and household utensils. However,

he had the happy knack of making friends in all quarters; and when at

a large trade sale, offered on unusually advantageous terms, he had

speedily emptied his meagre purse, and was looking wistfully at the

bargains falling to all his neighbours, a Liverpool merchant bade him

go on purchasing to the extent of £100 or £150, adding that he himself

would take the risk. This timely aid set Johnson up in a comparatively

princely manner, and after he had been in business a few years his

periodical catalogue extended to 300 pages. At this time the country

booksellers were chiefly dependent for their stocks upon the sales of

private libraries, but the Liverpool booksellers possessed another

large means of supplying their wants. The Bible Society in Dublin was

very busy in distributing new Bibles in all directions, which the good

Catholics at once carried to the pawnshops. These were purchased again

by Mr. Duffy, who brought them over to Liverpool in huge sacks, and

exchanged them for books more agreeable to the Irish taste.

By degrees Johnson combined publishing and auctioneering with the

more legitimate business. His first venture in the former capacity

was Abbot’s collected works; but by far his most successful were the

Lectures on “Revivals,” and on “Professing Christians,” by Mr. Finney,

of which he sold 150,000 copies. As an auctioneer, he was a lesser, or

Liverpool edition, of Tegg, and his rooms under the Liver theatre were

crowded nightly. On one occasion Johnson is said to have purchased the

entire contents of Baldwin’s Bible room, and he was well known to have

been the largest consumer of Bibles out of London; and when Arnold left

the Bagsters, and commenced Bible printing on his own account, Johnson

was his favourite customer. Arnold’s puffing hand-bills vie with the

choicest pill-mongering productions. After a violent tirade against

Puseyism he continues thus, _re_ his “Domestic Bible,” and “Bible

Commentary:”--

“He has provided you the seed; He will help you to sow it, He will

help you to reap it. Sow it then, sow freely--sow largely--sow

bountifully--sow perseveringly. It may be bought cheaply--may be had

in any quantity--has never been known to fail in its effects. There

are agents for its sale in every town in Great Britain, you may obtain

it from any bookseller in penny and threepenny packages. Sow it, men

of Britain--sow it in schools--in families--in every town--in every

village--in every hamlet of England, Wales, and Scotland. Sow it beyond

the sea--for it will grow on foreign shores. Send it to Ireland, to

the Colonies, to India, to China, and sow it there. Send it to the

continent and to Africa and sow it there.” And so on _ad nauseam_.

The seed, however, proved very unprofitable to Arnold; and shortly

after his failure Johnson was also obliged to give up business, having

signed some unfortunate bills. He afterwards rejoined his father in

Manchester.

Another well-known Liverpool bookseller was “Dandy” Cruikshank, of

Castle Street, who maintained that he was the handsomest man in

England, and whose vanity extended to his trade, for his specialities

were books bound in pink and orange.

At the present time there are about sixty booksellers in Liverpool;

and Mr. Edward Howell, an apprentice of Johnson’s, possesses the

largest stock, consisting of 100,000 volumes, and is known also as a

religious publisher. Mr. Philip, another leading bookseller, has two

establishments in Liverpool, and a branch house in London, while Mr.

Cornish, of Holborn, has an establishment in Liverpool, as well as in

Dublin.

Crossing the Channel for a moment, we have an opportunity of saying

something of the Dublin booksellers; but we shall not be detained long,

as, in this branch of industry, the Irish capital presents a striking

contrast to the Scottish. In the interval between the cessation of

the licensing system and the Copyright Act of the 8th Anne, there

was no legal protection for literary property, and book-pirates

consequently abounded. One of the tribe has been celebrated by Dunton:

“Mr. Lee, in Lombard Street--such a pirate, such a cormorant never was

before--copies, books, men, ships, all was one; he held no propriety,

right or wrong, good or bad, till at last he began to be known; and

the booksellers, not enduring so ill a man among them, to disgrace

them, spewed him out, and off he marched for Ireland, where he acted as

felonious Lee (!) as he did in London.” There, however, till the Act of

Union, in 1801, book-pirates abounded, greatly to the discouragement

of native talent, and even of native industry, for Gent tells us

repeatedly that it was almost impossible for a journeyman printer to

earn wherewithall to exist on in the Dublin printing offices. In 1753

we find Samuel Richardson publishing a pamphlet--“The History of Sir

Charles Grandison before Publication by certain Booksellers in Dublin.”

It appears that sheets had been stolen from Richardson’s warehouse, and

that three Irish booksellers each produced cheap editions of nearly

half the entire novel, before a single volume had appeared in England.

There was no legal remedy; but “what,” asks the _Gray’s Inn Journal_

indignantly, “what then should be said of Exshaw, Wilson, and Saunders,

booksellers in Dublin, and perpetrators of this vile act of piracy?

They should be expelled from the Republic of Letters as literary Goths

and Vandals, who are ready to invade the property of every man of

genius.” With the Act of Union, however, the Dublin booksellers were

made amenable to English law, and a dolorous cry arose that their trade

was ruined, and that the “vested right” they had inherited, to prey

upon the Saxon, had been abolished by the cruel conquerors. From this

moment, of course, Irish bookselling was obliged to take a higher tone.

In a few years the _Dublin Review_ and the _Dublin University Magazine_

vindicated the intellectual powers of the natives, and for a long time

were widely circulated in Ireland, and were then mainly indebted to

the enterprise of Irish authors and booksellers. When the Commission

of National Education was appointed in Ireland, Mr. Thom was selected

as a publisher, and, through their pecuniary aid, was enabled to bring

out a series of “Irish National School Books,” that for cheapness

and excellence are probably still unrivalled. These led, as we have

previously seen, to petitions from the English publishers, complaining

of state interference with the ordinary and commercial laws of

bookselling, and to trials for infringement of copyright. However, in

the long-run the Irish Commissioners were successful, and Mr. Longman,

one of the complainants, eventually accepted their English agency.

Besides his connection with the Commission, Mr. Thom has acquired a

reputation in the Bookselling world by his excellent “Irish Almanac,”

which, till recently, was unrivalled by the English almanacs of any

London firms.

Latterly, however, Irish bookselling, as far as individual enterprize

goes, has been commonly associated with the name of James Duffy. He was

born in 1809, and after being apprenticed to a draper in the country,

found employment in Dublin, and here, like Robert Chambers, he invested

his spare coppers in picking up old books. At last he found trade so

bad that he determined to emigrate, and accordingly, as he possessed

no funds, he took his books to an auctioneer; at the sale, to his

surprise, he found that the books he had purchased for pence, now

produced as many shillings. Upon this he determined to drop the scheme

of emigration, and to turn bookseller. As we have before mentioned, he

collected the Bibles which the Catholics received from the Church of

England propagandists only to turn into money, and took them over to

Liverpool, where he exchanged them for books less unlawful in Papist

eyes. At first he hawked these about the country, but eventually took

a place of business in Anglesea Street, Dublin, and there began to

publish the “Bruton Series” of thrilling tales of robbers, battles,

adventures, and the like, at the low price of twopence each. In 1842 he

was appointed bookseller to the Repeal Agitators, and produced, under

their auspices, the “Library of Ireland,” consisting of patriotic and

national collections of poems, &c., edited or written by some of the

most brilliant of the National party. However, the movement for Repeal

collapsed, and before this Duffy had discerningly turned his attention

to less ephemeral publications, and produced editions of Carleton,

Banin, and other native celebrities. The famine of 1846 affected every

trade, and as the people had no money to buy bread, the sale of books

was, of course, utterly hopeless, and Duffy found that he could not

meet his engagements. His creditors granted him time, and the money was

to be paid in instalments. He sold his copyrights in England, and paid

the first instalment promptly. But when the time was due for the second

he saw no prospect of meeting it. A neighbour, however, called John

Donnegan, hearing that he was ruined, carried him a stocking full of

money, his lifetime’s hoardings, threw it down before him, with “Just

take that, and see if it is any use to you! Pay me when you can,” and

refusing to take any receipt, rushed out again. The stocking contained

nearly £1200, and Duffy was able not only to pay his creditors, but to

turn his attention to the publication of more important works than he

had hitherto attempted, such as the Douay Bible, Missals, Prayer-books,

and many historical works, and it was not long before he was in a

position to repay the kindly loan. About 1860 he opened a branch house

in London, and at that period the success of his publishing career may

be said to have culminated, for after the death of his wife he confined

himself almost entirely to disposing of his old stock. He died on the

4th of July of the year 1871, regretted by his fellow-citizens in

Dublin, and by his brother bibliopoles throughout the kingdom.[33]

* * * * *

If it were not for want of space there are several towns in the Midland

Counties which deserve notice here on account of their bibliopolical

fame--none more so, perhaps, than Derby, which at present possesses

no less than three large bookselling firms, which have also branch

businesses in London, Messrs. Richardson and Son having in addition

another establishment at Dublin. As Roman Catholic publishers some

of their productions have achieved an enormous circulation, notably

“The Crown of Jesus,” which, honoured with the approval of the Pope,

and of all the English dignitaries of the Roman Catholic Church, long

since attained an issue of 100,000 copies. The works of Frederick

William Faber, D.D., late of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, have

also been among the most popular of Messrs. Richardson and Son’s

publications. The Mozleys, of Derby, have long been in the trade, and

are represented both in the country and in London; one of the family

was well known in connection with the editorial staff of the _Times_

newspaper. The Mozleys publish the _Monthly Packet_, edited by Miss

Younge, and also the majority of that lady’s separate works. A third

firm, Messrs. Bemrose and Sons, have gained a considerable reputation

as archæological publishers, and as the proprietors of Mrs. Warren’s

“Household Manuals.”

At Halifax, where the book trade is of a more recent date, Messrs.

Milner and Sowerby, by their services in the cause of cheap

publications of really good and standard works, have done much to

counteract the effects of cheap and pernicious literature. “The Cottage

Library” has long been known all over England, and was one of the first

shilling series of really good books published--certainly the first in

a neat form and with a neat binding, issued at this low price, and is

still, in its extent and scope, unrivalled.

Manchester was one of the first provincial towns in England to which

the printer and bookseller came, for it must be remembered that the

trades were for centuries almost synonymous. The art of printing is

said to have been introduced here in 1588, when Penny went through

the kingdom with an itinerant press, but his plant was seized and

destroyed by the fifth Earl of Derby. However, the innovation was

effected, and the new art was firmly lodged. Manchester, nevertheless,

in these early days was a place of such importance that a mere

catalogue of the members of the trade would more than fill the few

pages at our command. Among the booksellers of the last century we

can only mention Haslingden, who published “Tim Bobbin”--a book

still famous; the Sowlers, one of the descendants of whom started

the _Courier_, under the editorship of Alaric A. Watts, in 1825,

and the journal still enjoys a wide popularity; Joseph Harrop, who

originated the _Manchester Mercury_ in 1752, published the “History

of Man” in sixpenny numbers, but Harrop’s well-known folio Bible was

issued by his son and successor; the firm of Clarke Brothers amassed

a large fortune in school books and stationery; and about the same

time Banks and Co. were also doing an immense trade upon a thoroughly

reprehensible system. Hayward, who was their managing partner, opened

shops in various places, placed his own servants in possession, and

made them accept bills to a very large amount. These bills were

discounted at the Manchester Bank, and when the crash came the bank

was a creditor upon the estate to the amount of £120,000, while the

London publishers were indebted to the extent of £100,000. Among the

shopmen in charge under Hayward’s system was Timperley, a printer, and

a man of considerable literary ability. To pay the debts contracted

through this wholesale acceptance of bills, he consigned his stock to

an auctioneer, who, after disposing of it by auction, ran off with the

proceeds of the sale. Timperley, heart-broken by misfortune, accepted

a literary engagement with Fisher and Jackson, of London, and in

their service he died. In early days he had been a soldier, had gone

through many campaigns, had served at Waterloo, and had well earned

his pension of a shilling per diem. He is now known chiefly as the

author of the “Manchester Historical Recorder,” and of “Timperley’s

Typographical Dictionary”--one of the most accurate, laborious, and

voluminous compilations ever made, and one to be gratefully remembered

by all students of the history of the printing press in this country.

Another worthy of typographical fame was Bent, who, after doing a large

bookselling business among the Manchester Unitarians, then, at all

events, the most cultivated portion of the inhabitants, started “Bent’s

Literary Advertiser,” the first bookseller’s organ, and which latterly

has been incorporated in the _Bookseller_. The _Bookseller_ was started

in 1857 by Mr. Whitaker, and among its earliest contributors were many

men of some note, especially Alaric Watts. From the first it filled an

acknowledged void, and, as a trade journal, has never been surpassed.

From the interest of the notes and trade gossip contained in its pages,

as well as from the more solid information in its lists of works and

announcements, it has secured a wide popularity here and abroad, and

has been the precursor of similar journals in America and elsewhere.

* * * * *

Among other important Manchester publishers were R. & W. Dean, who

introduced stereotyping into the city, and issued a large series of

popular and useful books. From some cause or another, they failed, and

their stereos came into the possession of Samuel Johnson, the father

of the Liverpool bookseller. Johnson now became a publisher on a very

extensive scale, and is said to have been the originator of the royal

32mo. literature, which is now chiefly identified with Halifax.

In our own times, Manchester bookselling has been principally

represented by the brothers Abel and John Heywood--a name almost as

widely known as that of any London firm. The brothers were born at

Prestwich, of very humble parentage; their father, indeed, is said at

one time to have been in receipt of parish relief. Abel began life as

a warehouse boy, on the scanty pittance of eighteenpence a week; but

at the age of twenty he was summarily dismissed by his master in a fit

of passion. He now obtained the wholesale agency for the _Poor Man’s

Guardian_, and was very shortly afterwards fined £54 for selling it

without a stamp. He could not pay the fine, and was sent to prison for

four months; but his family managed the shop during his incarceration,

still selling the _Guardian_ as before, but in a quieter manner. In

1834 and in 1836 he was again fined, but now he could afford to pay.

The Government next tried to seize the papers while in the hands of the

carriers, and they were obliged consequently to be sent through the

country carefully concealed--embedded in a chest of tea or a hamper

of shoes. As soon, however, as the duty was reduced from fourpence to

a penny, the poorer classes were able to pay for stamped papers. Abel

Heywood was, nevertheless, again the subject of a legal prosecution for

the publication of a penny pamphlet by Haslam. Acting with vigorous

promptness, he caused three or four copies of Shelley’s works to be

purchased from the chief Manchester booksellers, and then contended

that the poems were more blasphemous than his pamphlet. The Government

did not care to excite the ill-feelings of the reading public by

sending booksellers of position to prison, and as the cases were

precisely similar, they relinquished the prosecution. Probably this

decisive conduct suggested the same course to Hetherington, who was

afterwards the cause of that famous trial, the Queen _v._ Moxon.

In 1838, Fergus O’Connor started the _Northern Star_, and for four

years its prosperity at the time was unexampled. Heywood sold 18,000

copies weekly. By degrees his periodical trade increased enormously.

In 1847 he joined some paper-stainers, and the firm soon became one

of the largest in the world. In the year 1860 the paper duty paid by

them amounted to more than £20,000. Among the most successful of his

recent publications have been “Abel Heywood’s Penny Guide Books.” The

series now embraces upwards of seventy-five numbers, referring to every

place of importance or interest in the kingdom. He has also issued the

whole of the popular tale, “The Gates Ajar,” for the same price--one

penny--giving in a pamphlet form what usually occupies a goodly volume.

Abel Heywood, however, was as well known as a distinguished public man

as a successful bookseller. In 1835 he was appointed a Commissioner

of Police, and during the Manchester riots in 1842 and 1849 he took

a conspicuous part in quelling the disturbances. Elected to the

corporation, he became an alderman in 1853, and in 1859 he was third in

the list of candidates at the general Parliamentary elections. In 1862

he was elected Mayor of Manchester; in 1864 he took his son, Abel, into

partnership.

John Heywood commenced life in the same lowly circumstances as his

brother, and at the age of fourteen found employment as a handloom

weaver. Within ten years his wages rose from half-a-crown to thirty

shillings a week; and when in receipt of this latter sum he regularly

allowed his mother a pound a week. At the age of four-and-twenty he

married, and to improve his worldly position, accepted the management

of a small factory at Altrincham, in Cheshire; but as the speculation

proved a failure, he returned to his former occupation of “dressing”

for power-loom weavers, at which he remained until his thirty-fifth

year. Desirous of rendering even his spare time profitable, he had

bought a paper-ruling machine, upon which he worked in the evenings;

and Abel, who was now a successful bookseller in Oldham Street, offered

him a situation in his establishment as paper-ruler, with a salary of

two pounds a week: and in his brother’s employ he remained for seven

years. In 1842, however, determined to make a start for himself, he

took a little shop in Deansgate, and, assisted by his son John, a lad

of thirteen, the business, originally infinitesimal, increased rapidly

and vastly. At first they confined their efforts almost entirely to the

sale of weekly or Sunday papers, and they were able to carry abroad

conveniently under their arms all the newspapers they could dispose

of. In a few months, however, the aid of a wheelbarrow was required,

and this, in turn, was discarded for a pony and trap. After adding

every possible enlargement to the old premises, they were obliged in

1859 to take a shop on the opposite side of the street; and year after

year, as the business expanded, addition after addition was made to the

premises, until three buildings were rolled into one, and at the end

of another seven years a huge six-storey manufactory was built in the

rear of the triangular shop. The increase of the working staff kept

pace with the growth of the establishment, and now, instead of the

armful or the barrow-load, a special railway truck, with a freightage

of about two tons, comes down from London five times a week; some

hundred and fifty assistants supply the place of the lad of thirteen,

and nine spring-carts have been introduced in lieu of the little pony

trap. A thousand parcels are made up each day, and between three and

four hundred orders are received by every morning’s post; for, besides

being the largest newsvendors and booksellers out of London, the firm

are the largest copybook makers in the kingdom. Fifteen hundred gross

of copybooks are despatched from the warehouses every month; and it

is stated that the weekly issue of newspapers, magazines, and other

periodicals amounts to the almost incredible number of a quarter of a

million.

In 1864, John Heywood, senior, died, and the business devolved upon his

son, who had inherited all his father’s energy and industry. In 1867

he introduced a platten printing machine, adapted to take impressions

from the stereo-plates of his school-books--known as “John Heywood’s

Code,” “John Heywood’s Manchester Reader,” &c.--and before long he

resolved to become a regular printer as well as a publisher, and the

“Excelsior Printing Works” were erected about a mile from Deansgate,

where 355 people are constantly employed in the manufacture of books,

in a manner very similar to that previously described in our accounts

of the Messrs. Nelson and Collins, of Scotland. Among the books

published by Mr. John Heywood are dialectic works, many of which are

regarded, justly, as Lancashire classics. One of his latest triumphs

has been the issue of the “Science Lectures for the People,” delivered

at the Hulme Town Hall, and sold separately at a penny each--a fact

that says something as to the good taste of the factory lads. Four

monthly and three weekly periodicals are published by Mr. John Heywood.

Of the former the _Railway Guide_ is the most widely circulated, while

the _Lithographer_ is indispensable to the many decorative artists of

the neighbourhood; and _Ben Brierley’s Journal_, with its vernacular

contributions, finds its way to every Lancashire fireside. Of the

latter, the _Sphinx_, a satirical journal, is the most popular.

The career of the two Heywoods is a striking example of the labour,

energy, and success which Lancashire folk are apt to think the true

attributes of the typical “Manchester man;” and if they have not been

instrumental in adding much to the higher literature of the world,

their publications have very widely extended the taste for knowledge

among the lower orders in the north of England.

* * * * *

Even in Birmingham the trade of bookselling was introduced at a

comparatively recent date. Dr. Johnson tells us that his father used

to open a bookstall here on market days; and Boswell adds, in a note,

that there was not then a single regular bookshop in the whole town.

Elsewhere he tells us that “Mr Warren was the first established

bookseller in Birmingham, and was very attentive to Johnson, who

he soon found could be of much service to him in his trade by his

knowledge of literature; and he even obtained the assistance of his

pen in furnishing some numbers of a periodical essay, printed in

the newspaper of which Warren was proprietor.” Mr Warren, however,

though Johnson’s first encourager, has long since been forgotten, and

Birmingham bookselling is now universally identified with the name of

William Hutton; and from his autobiography, published in 1816--perhaps

the most interesting record of a self-made life that has ever been

personally indited--we give a short sketch of his career.

William Hutton was born at Derby, in 1723. His father, a drunken

wool-comber, scarcely brought home wherewithal to keep the wretched

family from starvation, and “consultations were held (when the child

was six years old) about fixing me in some employment for the benefit

of the family. Winding quills for the weaver was mentioned, but

died away. Stripping tobacco for the grocer, by which I was to earn

fourpence a week, was proposed, but it was at last concluded that I

was too young for any employment.” Next year, however, the result of

the consultation was otherwise, and he was placed in a silk-mill;

the youngest, and by far the smallest, of the 300 persons employed,

a lofty pair of pattens were tied on to his feet so that he might be

able to reach the engine; and he continues:--“I had now to rise at

five every morning, summer and winter, for seven years; to submit

to the cane whenever convenient to the master; to be the constant

companion of the most rude and vulgar of the human race; never taught

by nature, nor ever wishing to be taught.” Brutally treated, so that

the scars of his chastisements remained on his body through life, he

left the mill as soon as ever his apprenticeship expired; “a place,”

he says, “most curious and pleasing to the eye,” but which had given

him a seven years’ heart-ache. He was now bound for another term to

an uncle--a stocking-maker at Nottingham. “My task was to earn for my

uncle 5_s._ 10_d._ a week. The first week I could reach this sum I was

to be gratified with sixpence, but ever after, should I fall short or

go beyond it, the loss or profit was to be my own.” In this situation,

he was not only thrashed by his master, but starved by his aunt;

and, goaded by the taunts of the neighbours, he fled away, but was

reluctantly compelled to return. In 1744 his apprenticeship expired,

and for two years longer he remained as a journeyman in the same

employment, but he now made the melancholy discovery--for all trade

was in a very wretched condition at the time--that he had served two

separate terms of seven years, to two separate trades, and yet could

subsist upon neither.

A gradually acquired taste for reading led him to purchase a few

books, and their tattered condition prompted him to try his hand at

binding; and, as he could get no employment in his own avocations,

he determined to start afresh as a bookbinder. His friends sneered at

his ambitious hopes, but his sister supported him firmly. There were

no binding tools to be purchased then in the country, so his sister

“raised three guineas, sewed them in my shirt-collar, for there was no

doubt but I should be robbed,” and put eleven shillings in his pocket

as a sop to the expected highwayman, and off he started for London,

walking fifty-one miles the first day and reaching it on the third.

Here he invested his three guineas in tools, and stayed three days,

seeing all that could be seen for nothing, his only paid entertainment

being a visit to Bedlam, which cost a penny. Three days more, and

he was back at Nottingham, terribly worn-out and footsore, but with

fourpence still remaining out of his little travelling fund.

He now took a small shop, fourteen miles from Nottingham, at an annual

rent of twenty shillings, and “in one day became the most eminent

bookseller in Southwell,” but he still lived at Nottingham. “During the

rainy winter months,” he says, “I set out from Nottingham at five every

Saturday morning, carried a burthen of from three to thirty pounds’

weight to Southwell, opened shop at ten, starved it all day upon bread,

cheese, and half a pint of ale; took from 1_s._ to 6_s._, shut up at

four, and by trudging through the solitary night and the deep roads

five hours more, I arrived at Nottingham by nine, where I always found

a mess of milk-porridge by the fire, prepared by my valuable sister.

But nothing short of resolution and rigid economy could have carried me

through this scene.”

There was little profit, however, in such a life, laborious as it was,

and in 1750 he made an exploring journey to Birmingham, where he found

there were only three booksellers--Warren, Aris, and Wollaston, and

here he resolved to settle, hoping that he might escape the envy of

“the three great men.”

He obtained the use of half a little shop for the moderate premium of

one shilling per week, but he had as yet to find wherewith to stock

it. On a visit to Nottingham, he met a friendly minister, who asked,

for the weather was inclement, why he had ventured so far without a

great-coat, and who on receiving no reply, shrewdly guessed Hutton’s

impoverished condition, from his draggled, thread-bare garments, and

offered him a couple of hundred-weight of books at his own price, and

that price to be postponed to the future, and by way of receipt the

young bookseller gave him the following: “I promise to pay to Ambrose

Rudsall £1 7_s._, when I am able.” The debt was speedily cancelled.

His period of probation was sufficiently severe: “Five shillings a

week covered all my expenses, as food, washing, lodging, &c.,” but

by degrees the better-informed and wealthier of the young clerks and

apprentices began to frequent his shop, and were attracted by his

zeal, and his evident love for the books he sold. With his skill in

binding, he could furbish up the shabbiest tomes, and greatly increase

their marketable value. By the end of his first year he found that he

had, by the most rigid economy, saved up twenty pounds. Things were

brightening, but the overseers, who at that time possessed a terrible

power over the poorest classes, ostensibly dreading lest he should

become chargeable to the parish, refused his payment of the rates,

and bade him remove elsewhere. In this strait he exhibited much

worldly wisdom, and invested half his little hoarding in a fine suit

of clothes, purchased from one of the overseers, who happened to be a

draper.

In the following year, 1751, he took a better shop, next door to a

Mr. Grace, a hosier, and in a quiet, undemonstrative manner, fell in

love with his neighbour’s niece. “Time gave us,” he says, “numberless

opportunities of observing each other’s actions, and trying the tenour

of conduct by the touchstone of prudence. Courtship was often a

disguise. We had seen each other when disguise was useless. Besides,

nature had given to few women a less portion of deceit.” The uncle at

length consented to the match, and, with Sarah, Hutton received a dowry

of £100; and, as he had already amassed £200 of his own, from this

happy moment his fortunes ran smoothly upwards.

He now increased an otherwise profitable trade by starting a

circulating library--perhaps the first that was attempted in the

provinces; and about this same time, 1753, he acquired a very useful

friend in the person of Robert Bage, the paper-maker, and undertook the

retail portion of the paper business. “From this small hint,” he says,

“I followed the stroke forty years, and acquired an ample fortune.” And

yet, though waxing yearly richer and richer, he adds, “I never could

bear the thought of living to the extent of my income. I never omitted

to take stock or regulate my annual expenses, so as to meet casualties

and misfortunes.” By degrees he became invested with civic dignities,

and little by little he acquired the standing of a landed proprietor.

Without neglecting his business he now found leisure for literary

composition; and in his last work--“A Trip to Coatham”--he tells us, “I

took up my pen, and that with fear and trembling, at the advanced age

of fifty-six, a period when most would lay it down. I drove the quill

thirty years, during which time I wrote and published thirty books.”

His first work, the “History of Birmingham,” appeared, and these thirty

tomes of verse and prose followed in quick succession.

In 1802 he published his best-known work, the “History of the Roman

Wall.” Antiquarians had, before this, described the famous line of

defence, but hitherto no one had attempted a personal inspection.

Seventy-five years old, still hale and hearty, with an enthusiasm akin

to that of youth, he started on foot for Northumberland, accompanied

by his daughter on horse-back. Intent upon reaching the scene of his

antiquarian desires, “he turned,” writes his daughter, “neither to the

right nor the left, except to gratify me with a sight of Liverpool.

Windermere he saw, and Ullswater he saw, because they lay under his

feet, but nothing could detain him from his grand object.” On his

return journey, after every hollow of the ground, every stone of the

Wall, between Carlisle and Newcastle, had been examined, he was bitten

in the leg by a dog, but even this did not restrain him. Within four

days of home “he made forced journeys, and if we had had a little

further to go the foot would have knocked up the horse! The pace he

went did not even fatigue his shoes. He walked the whole 600 miles in

one pair, and scarcely made a hole in his stockings.”

Almost to the last he preserved his physical powers comparatively

intact. When he was eighty-eight, he writes--“At the age of eighty-two

I considered myself a young man. I could, without fatigue, walk forty

miles a day. But during the last few years I have felt a sensible

decay, and, like a stone rolling downhill, its velocity increases with

its progress. The strings of the instrument are one after another

giving way, never to be brought into tune.” Yet he did not die till

1815, at the ripe old age of ninety-two.

* * * * *

At the close of the last century Hutton lost a valuable collection of

books, and other valuable property, through the lawless riots that

took place in his native city; of these disturbances the author of the

_Press_ says:--

“When Birmingham, for riots and for crimes,

Shall meet the keen reproach of future times,

Then shall she find, amongst our honoured race,

One name to save her from entire disgrace.”

This “one name” was that of John Baskerville, a printer, a contemporary

of Hutton, and one of the most famous English type-founders. Commencing

life as a schoolmaster, his inclination for books turned his attention

to type-founding, but he spent £600 before he produced one letter that

thoroughly satisfied his exquisitely critical taste, and probably some

thousands before his business began to prove remunerative; and, after

all, his printing speculations yielded more honour than profit. Upon

paying a heavy royalty to the University of Cambridge, he was allowed

to print a Bible in royal folio, which, for beauty of type, is still

unrivalled; but the slender and delicate form of his letters were, as

Dr. Dibdin remarks, better suited to smaller books, and show to the

greatest advantage in his 12mo. “Virgil” and “Horace.” His strenuous

endeavours, and his large outlay, met with but little return; and

he writes of the “business of printing” as one “which I am heartily

tired of, and repent I ever attempted.” He died in 1775, and appears

to have printed nothing during the last ten years of his life. By the

direction left in his will, he was buried under a windmill in his own

garden, with the following epitaph on his tomb-stone: “Stranger! beneath

this cone, in unconsecrated ground, a friend to the liberties of

mankind directed his body to be inurned. May the example contribute to

emancipate thy mind from the idle fears of superstition, and the wicked

arts of priesthood.” His fount of type was unluckily allowed to leave

the country, and was purchased by Beaumarchais, of Paris, who produced

some exquisite editions, particularly of Voltaire’s works, but who lost

upwards of one million livres in his speculations.

* * * * *

A successful modern bookselling venture in this city resulted from the

establishment of the “Educational Trading Company (Limited)”--a novel

phase in the trade--of which the chief proprietor and chairman was

Mr. Josiah Mason. The business management was placed in the hands of

Mr. Kempster, and, by a thorough system of travellers, who personally

canvassed the proprietors of schools and colleges, offering them very

liberal terms, a large connection was almost immediately established.

The company’s operations were, of course, confined to the publication

of cheap educational works; and some of these, such as Gill’s and

Moffat’s series, attained a wide popularity, and necessitated, in 1870,

the opening of a London branch at St. Bride’s Avenue, and another

branch house at Bristol.

One of the most famous booksellers and printers of the West of

England was Andrew Brice, who was born in Exeter in the year 1690.

He was educated in early life with a view to the ministry, but

family misfortunes obliged him to become apprentice to Bliss, a

printer in that city. Long before the expiry of his apprenticeship

the improvident young printer married, and, being unable to support

a wife and two children upon the pittance he received, he enlisted

as a soldier in order to break his indentures, and, by the interest

of his friends, soon procured a discharge. He commenced business on

his own account, and started a newspaper, but, possessing only one

kind of type, he carved in wood the title and such capitals as he

stood in need of. Becoming embarrassed through a law suit, in which

heavy damages were cast against him, he was obliged to bar himself

in his own house to escape the debtor’s gaol. He spent seven long

years in this domestic confinement, but still continued to conduct

his business with assiduity, and, as a solace, to compose a poem,

“On Liberty,” the profits of which enabled him to compound with the

keepers of the city prison. After regaining his freedom his business

largely increased, and, in 1740, he set up a printing-press at Truro,

the first introduced into Cornwall; the miners were, however, at that

time in little need of literature, and he soon removed the types to

Exeter. Among his chief publications were the “Agreeable Gallimanfly;

or, Matchless Medley,” a collection of verses chiefly the production

of his own pen; the “Mob-aid,” so full of newly-coined words that, in

Devonshire, “Bricisms” were for long synonymous with quaint novelty of

expression; and the folio “Geographical Dictionary,” which occupied

ten years in publication and is still far from complete. Brice was at

all times a shielder of the oppressed; and when the Exeter play-actors

were purchased out of their theatre by the Methodists, who converted it

into a chapel, and indicted them as vagrants, he published a poem--“The

Playhouse Church; or, new Actors of Devotion,” which so stirred up

popular feeling that the Methodists were fain to restore the place to

its former possessors, who, under Brice’s patronage, opened their house

for some time gratis to all comers. In gratitude the players brought

his characteristics of speech and dress into their dramas, and even

Garrick eventually introduced him, under, of course, a pseudonyme, in

the “Clandestine Marriage.” At the time of his death, in 1773, he was

the oldest master-printer in England. His corpse lay for some days

in state at the Apollo Inn; every person admitted to view it paid a

shilling, and the money so received went towards defraying the expense

of his funeral, which was attended by three hundred freemasons, for he

had not only been a zealous member of the fraternity, but at the period

of his decease he was looked upon as the father of the craft.

* * * * *

Another West of England worthy, though he was only a bookseller for

the short space of seven years, has perhaps higher claim upon our

attention than any other provincial bibliopole. Joseph Cottle was born

at Bristol in the year 1770, and at the age of twenty-one he became a

bookseller in his native city. In 1795 he published a volume of his own

“Poems”--and himself an author he was generously able to appreciate

the work of better men. Through extraordinary circumstances he became

acquainted with Coleridge, Southey, Wordsworth, and Lamb, when they

were still unknown to fame, and with a rare perception of genius he was

able to assist them materially towards the goal of success. From his

interesting “Early Recollections,” we gather that one evening Coleridge

told him despondently that he had been the round of London booksellers

with a volume of poems, and that all but one had refused to even look

over the manuscript, and that this one proffered him six guineas for

the copyright, which sum, poor as he was, he felt constrained to

decline. Cottle at once offered the young author thirty guineas, and

actually paid the money before the completion of the volume, which

appeared in 1796.

To Southey he made the same bid for his first volume, and the offer

was eagerly accepted. Cottle at once, however, added, “You have read

me some books of your ‘Joan of Arc,’ which poem I perceive to have

great merit. If it meet with your concurrence I will give you fifty

guineas for this work, and publish it in quarto, when I will give you

in addition fifty copies to dispose of among your friends.” Southey

corroborates this account, and further says, “It can rarely happen that

a young author should meet with a bookseller as inexperienced and as

ardent as himself; and it would be still more extraordinary if such

mutual indiscretion did not bring with it cause for regret to both.

But this transaction was the commencement of an intimacy which has

continued without the slightest shade of displeasure at any time on

either side to the present day.” Cottle ordered a new fount of type

“for what was intended to be the handsomest book that Bristol had ever

yet sent forth,” and owing, perhaps, more to the party feelings of the

periodical press, and the subject of the poem, than to any intrinsic

merit, other than as holding out vague hope of future promise, the

young author acquired a sudden reputation, which was afterwards fully

sustained by his prose if not by his poetry.

Later on Cottle was introduced to Wordsworth, who read him portions of

his “Lyrical Ballads.” The venturous bookseller made him the same offer

of thirty guineas for the first-fruits of his genius, saying that it

would be a gratifying circumstance to issue the first volumes of three

such poets, and (a veritable prophecy) “a distinction that might never

again occur to a provincial bookseller.” After mature consideration,

Wordsworth accepted the offer; but the “Lyrical Ballads,” in which

also Coleridge’s “Ancient Mariner” first appeared, went off so slowly

that he was compelled to part with the greater part of the five

hundred copies to Arch, a London bookseller. We have already related

how Cottle, and after him, Longman, rendered material assistance to

Chatterton’s sister, by an edition of the poems of the Sleepless Boy

who perished in his Pride, and how in 1798 Cottle disposed of all his

copyrights to Longman, and obtained his consent to return the copyright

of the “Lyrical Ballads” to the author.

Though Cottle henceforth gave up bookselling, he did not forego

book-making. In 1798 he published his “Malvern Hills,” in 1801 his

“Alfred,” and in 1809 the “Fall of Cambria.” These last effusions

attracted the venom of Lord Byron’s pen, who writes in bitter prose,

“Mr. Cottle, Amos, Joseph, I know not which, but one or both, once

sellers of books they did not write, now writers of books that do not

sell, have published a pair of epics,” and in bitterer verse:

“Bœotian Cottle, rich Bristowa’s boast,

Imports old stories from the Cambrian coast,

And sends his goods to market, all alive,

Lines forty thousand, cantos twenty-five.

* * * * *

Oh, Amos Cottle!--Phœbus! what a name

To fill the speaking trump of future fame!--

Oh, Amos Cottle! for a moment think

What meagre profits spring from pen and ink!

When thus devoted to poetic dreams

Who will peruse thy prostituted reams?

Oh, pen perverted, paper misapplied!

Had Cottle still adorned the counter’s side,

Bent o’er the desk, or, born to useful toils,

Been taught to make the paper which he soils,

Plough’d, delved, or plied the oar with lusty limb,

He had not sung of Wales, nor I of him.”

Of course, this confusion of the names of the two brothers was

intentionally meant to strengthen the gibe. Though Cottle was at best

an indifferent poet his name would have survived as a generous friend

even if Lord Byron had not honoured him with his satire.

After having personally encouraged the youthful genius of such authors

as Coleridge, Southey, and Wordsworth, and after having enjoyed their

friendship and esteem, it was natural that Cottle, when their names

had become familiar words in every household in England, should wish

to preserve what he could of the history of their early days. In 1837

he published his “Early Recollections,” but as he had felt compelled

to decline to contribute them in any mutilated form to the authorised,

and insufferably dull, life of Coleridge, the work was greeted by the

_Quarterly Review_ with a howl of contemptuous abuse, as consisting of

the “refuse of advertisements and handbills, the sweepings of a shop,

the shreds of a ledger, and the rank residuum of a life of gossip.”

This is certainly “slashing criticism” with a vengeance: Cottle based

the value of his book upon the ground of his having been a bookseller,

and to taunt him with the fact is as unmanly as the whole description

of the work is false. He lays the slightest possible stress upon

the assistance he had been able to render the illustrious authors

pecuniarily, and only brings it forward at all as furnishing matter

for literary history; and to most students the literary history of the

early struggles of genius does possess the highest interest. Cottle

was certainly unskilled in the art of composition, and was undoubtedly

garrulous, but the gossip anent such writers, when prompted, as in this

case, by truth and affection, is worth tomes of disquisitions upon

their virtues or their faults. Joseph Cottle died as recently as 1854,

and his memory is already half-forgotten, and yet had we wished to

close our annals of the “trade” by tributes paid by illustrious writers

to the worth and integrity of its members, we could find none more

fitting than the letters of two famous poets to an obscure provincial

bookseller.

“DEAR COTTLE,--On the blank leaf of my poems I can most

appropriately write my acknowledgments to you, for your too

disinterested conduct in the purchase of them.... Had it not

been for you none, perhaps, of them would have been published,

and some not written.

“Your obliged and affectionate friend,

S. T. COLERIDGE.”