the present price, or obliges the Proprietors to advance it. There is
no option left; the price of Paper is now so high that the Proprietors
have no longer an interest to render their sale extensive, as far as
regards the profits of a large circulation. The more they sell at the
present price, the more they will lose; to us alone the _Advance_ on
Paper will make a difference of £1,200 sterling per Annum more than it
formerly cost us--a sum which the Public must be convinced neither can,
nor ought to be afforded by any Property of the limited nature of a
Newspaper, the profits on the sale of which are precisely as follows:
‘SALE.
2,000 Newspapers sold to the Newshawkers at 3½d., with a
further deduction of allowing them a Paper in every Quire
of 24 £26 18 6.
‘COST OF 2,000 PAPERS.
A Bundle of Paper containing 2,000 Half-sheets, or 2,000 Newspapers
at Four Guineas per Bundle, which is the price it will
be sold at under the new Duty is £4 4 0.
£4 4 0 £26 18 6
2,000 Stamps at 2d., deducting discount 16 0 0 20 4 0
-------
Profits £6 14 6
=======
‘This is the whole Profit on the sale of two thousand Newspapers, out
of which is to be deducted the charges of printing a Newspaper (which,
on account of the Rise in Printers’ Wages last year, is £100 a year
more than it ever was before), the charges of Rent, Taxes, Coals,
Candles (which are very high in every Printing-office), Clerks, general
Superintendance, Editing, Parliamentary and Law Reports, and, above
all, the Expenses of FOREIGN CORRESPONDENCE, which, under the present
difficulties of obtaining it, and the different Channels which must
be employed to secure a regular and uninterrupted Communication, is
immense. If this Paper is in high estimation, surely the Proprietors
ought to receive the advantage of their success, and not the Revenue,
which already monopolises such an immense income from this property, no
less than to the amount of £14,000 sterling during last year only. We
trust that these reasons will have sufficient weight with the Public
to excuse us when we announce, though with very great regret, that on
Monday next the price of this Paper will be _Fourpence Halfpenny_.’
Occasionally, the proprietor fell foul of his neighbours; vide the
_Times_, November 16, 1795:
‘All the abuse so lavishly bestowed on this Paper by other Public
Prints, seems as if designed to betray, that in proportion as our sale
is _good_, it is _bad_ TIMES with them.’
In the early part of 1797, Pitt proposed, among other methods of
augmenting the revenue, an additional stamp of three halfpence on every
newspaper. The _Times_, April 28, 1797, groaned over it thus:
‘The present daily sale of the TIMES is known to be between four and
five thousand Newspapers. For the sake of perspicuity, we will make our
calculation on four thousand only, and it will hold good in proportion
to every other Paper.
‘The Newsvendors are now allowed by the Proprietors of every Newspaper
two sheets in every quire, viz., twenty-six for every twenty-four
Papers sold. The stamp duty on two Papers in every quire in four
thousand Papers daily at the old Duty of 2d., amounts to £780 a year,
besides the value of the Paper. An additional Duty of 1½d. will
occasion a further loss of £585 in this one instance only, for which
there is not, according to Mr. PITT’S view of the subject, to be the
smallest remuneration to the Proprietors. Is it possible that anything
can be so unjust? If the Minister persists in his proposed plan, it
will be impossible for Newspapers to be sold at a lower rate than
sixpence halfpenny per Paper.’
Pitt, of course, carried out his financial plan, and the newspapers had
to grin, and bear it as best they could--the weaker going to the wall,
as may be seen by the following notices which appeared in the _Times_,
July 5:
‘TO THE PUBLIC.
‘We think it proper to remind our Readers and the Public at large that,
in consequence of the heavy additional Duty of Three Half-pence imposed
on every Newspaper, by a late Act of Parliament, which begins to have
effect from and after this day, the Proprietors are placed in the very
unpleasant position of being compelled to raise the price of their
Newspapers to the amount of the said Duty. To the Proprietors of this
Paper it will prove a very considerable diminution of the fair profits
of the Trade; they will not, however, withdraw in the smallest degree
any part of the Expenses which they employ in rendering the TIMES an
Intelligent and Entertaining source of Information: and they trust with
confidence that the Public will bestow on it the same liberal and kind
Patronage which they have shown for many years past; and for which the
Proprietors have to offer sentiments of sincere gratitude. From this
day, the price of every Newspaper will be Sixpence.’
July 19, 1797. ‘Some of the COUNTRY NEWSPAPERS have actually given up
the Trade, rather than stand the risk of the late enormous heavy Duty:
many others have advertised them for Sale: some of those printed in
Town must soon do the like, for the fair profits of Trade have been so
curtailed, that no Paper can stand the loss without having a very large
proportion of Advertisements. We have very little doubt but that, so
far from Mr. Pitt’s calculation of a profit of £114,000 sterling by the
New Tax on Newspapers, the Duty, the same as on WINE, will fall very
short of the original Revenue.’
July 13, 1797. ‘As a proof of the diminution in the general sale of
Newspapers since the last impolitic Tax laid on them, we have to
observe, as one instance, that the number of Newspapers sent through
the General Post Office on Monday the 3rd instant, was 24,700, and on
Monday last, only 16,800, a falling off of nearly _one-third_.’
Once again we find John Walter falling foul of a contemporary--and
indulging in editorial amenities.
July 2, 1798. ‘The _Morning Herald_ has, no doubt, acted from _very
prudent motives_ in declining to state any circumstances respecting
its sale. All that we hope and expect, in future, is--that it will not
attempt to injure this Paper by insinuating that it was in a declining
state; an assertion which it knows to be false, and which will be taken
notice of in a different way if repeated. The _Morning Herald_ is at
liberty to make any other comments it pleases.’
Have the _Daily Telegraph_ and the _Standard_ copied from John Walter,
when they give public notice that their circulation is so-and-so, as
is vouched for by a respectable accountant? It would seem so, for this
notice appeared in the _Times_:
* * * * *
‘We have subjoined an Affidavit sworn yesterday before a Magistrate of
the City, as to the present sale of the TIMES.
‘“We, C. Bentley and G. Burroughs, Pressmen of the _Times_, do make
Oath, and declare, That the number printed of the _Times_ Paper for the
last two months, has never been, on any one day, below 3 thousand, and
has fluctuated from that number to three thousand three hundred and
fifty.”
‘And, in order to avoid every subterfuge, I moreover attest, That the
above Papers of the TIMES were paid for to me, previous to their being
taken by the Newsmen from the Office, with the exception of about a
dozen Papers each morning which are spoiled in Printing.
‘J. BONSOR, Publisher.
‘Sworn before me December 31, 1798.
‘W. CURTIS.’
From this time the career of the _Times_ seems to have been prosperous,
for we read, January 1, 1799,
‘THE NEW YEAR.
‘The New Year finds the TIMES in the same situation which it has
invariably enjoyed during a long period of public approbation. It
still continues to maintain its character among the Morning Papers, as
the most considerable in point of sale, as of general dependence with
respect to information, and as proceeding on the general principles of
the British Constitution. While we thus proudly declare our possession
of the public favour, we beg leave to express our grateful sense of the
unexampled patronage we have derived from it.’
Mr. John Walter was never conspicuous for his modesty, and its absence
is fully shown in the preceding and succeeding examples (January 1,
1800):
‘It is always with satisfaction that we avail ourselves of the return
of the present Season to acknowledge our sense of the obligation we lay
under to the Public, for the very liberal Patronage with which they
have honoured the TIMES, during many years; a constancy of favour,
which, we believe, has never before distinguished any Newspaper, and
for which the Proprietors cannot sufficiently express their most
grateful thanks.
‘This Favour is too valuable and too honourable to excite no envy in
contemporary Prints, whose frequent habit it is to express it by the
grossest calumnies and abuse. The Public, we believe, has done them
ample justice, and applauded the contempt with which it is our practice
to receive them.’
As this self-gratulatory notice brings us down to the last year of
the eighteenth century, I close this notice of ‘The _Times_ and its
Founder.’ John Walter died at Teddington, Middlesex, on the 26th of
January, 1812.
IMPRISONMENT FOR DEBT.
Imprisonment for debt has long ceased to exist in England; debtors now
only suffering incarceration for contempt of Court: that is to say,
that the judge has satisfied himself that the debtor has the means to
pay, and will not. But, in the eighteenth century, it was a fearful
fact, and many languished in prison for life, for most trifling sums.
Of course, there were debtors _and_ debtors. If a man had money or
friends, much might be done to mitigate his position; he might even
live outside the prison, in the Rules, as they were called, a limited
district surrounding the prison; but for this advantage he must find
substantial bail--enough to cover his debt and fees. But the friendless
poor debtor had a very hard lot, subsisting on charity, going, in turn,
to beg of passers-by for a coin, however small, rattling a box to call
attention, and dolorously repeating, ‘Remember the poor prisoners.’
There were many debtors’ prisons, and one of the principal, the Fleet,
was over-crowded; in fact, they all were full. Newgate, the Marshalsea,
the Gate House, Westminster, the Queen’s Bench, the Fleet, Ludgate,
Whitecross Street, Whitechapel, and a peculiar one belonging to St.
Katharine’s (where are now the docks).
Arrest for debt was very prompt; a writ was taken out, and no poor
debtor dare stir out without walking ‘beard on shoulder,’ dreading
a bailiff in every passer-by. The profession of bailiff was not an
honoured one, and, probably, the best men did not enter it; but they
had to be men of keen wit and ready resource, for they had equally
keen wits, sharpened by the dread of capture, pitted against them.
Some rose to eminence in their profession, and as, occasionally, there
is a humorous side even to misery, I will tell a few stories of their
exploits. As I am not inventing them, and am too honest to pass off
another man’s work as my own, I prefer telling the stories in the
quaint language in which I find them.
‘_Abram Wood_ had a Writ against an _Engraver_, who kept a House
opposite to _Long Acre_ in _Drury Lane_, and having been several times
to serve it, but could never light on the Man, because he work’d at
his business above Stairs, as not daring to shew his Head for fear of
being arrested, for he owed a great deal of Money, Mr. _Bum_ was in
a Resolution of spending no more Time over him; till, shortly after,
hearing that one _Tom Sharp_, a House-breaker, was to be hang’d at
the end of _Long Acre_, for murdering a Watchman, he and his Follower
dress’d themselves like Carpenters, having Leather Aprons on, and Rules
tuck’d in at the Apron Strings: then going early the morning or two
before the Malefactor was to be executed, to the place appointed for
Execution, they there began to pull out their Rules, and were very
busie in marking out the Ground where they thought best for erecting
the Gibbet. This drew several of the Housekeepers about ’em presently,
and among the rest the _Engraver_, who, out of a selfish humour of
thinking he might make somewhat the more by People standing in his
House to see the Execution, in Case this Gibbet was near it, gave
_Abram_ a Crown, saying,
‘“_I’ll give you a Crown more if you’ll put the Gibbet hereabouts_;” at
the same time pointing where he would have it.
‘Quoth _Abram_: “_We must put it fronting exactly up_ Long Acre;
_besides, could I put it nearer your door, I should require more Money
than you propose, even as much as this_” (at the same time pulling it
out of his pocket) “_Writ requires, which is twenty-five Pounds._” So,
taking his prisoner away, who could not give in Bail to the Action, he
was carried to Jayl, without seeing _Tom Sharp_ executed.’
* * * * *
‘_William Browne_ had an Action given him against one _Mark Blowen_,
a Butcher, who, being much in debt, was never at his Stall, except on
_Saturdays_, and then not properly neither, for the opposite side of
the way to his Shop being in the Duchy Liberty[44] (with the Bailiff
whereof he kept in Fee) a Bailiff of the Marshal’s Court could not
arrest him. From hence he could call to his Wife and Customers as there
was occasion; and there could _Browne_ once a week see his Prey, but
durst not meddle with him. Many a Saturday his Mouth watered at him;
but one Saturday above the rest, _Browne_, stooping for a Purse, as if
he found it, just by his Stall, and pulling five or six guineas out of
it, the Butcher’s Wife cry’d “Halves;” his Follower, who was at some
little distance behind him, cry’d out, “Halves” too.
‘_Browne_ refused Halves to either, whereupon they both took hold of
him, the Woman swearing it was found by her Stall, therefore she would
have half; and the Follower saying, As he saw it as soon t’other, he
would have a Share of it too, or he would acquaint the Lord of the
Mannor with it. _Mark Blowen_, in the meantime, seeing his Wife and
another pulling and haling the Man about, whom he did not suspect to be
a Bailiff, asked, “What’s the Matter?” His wife telling him the Man had
found a Purse with Gold in it by her Stall, and therefore she thought
it nothing but Justice but she ought to have some of it.
“‘_Ay ay_,” (quoth the Butcher), “_and nothing but Reason, Wife_.”
‘So, coming from his privileged side of the Way, he takes hold of
_Browne_ too, bidding his Wife look after the Shop, for he would take
care of him before they parted.
‘_Browne_, being thus hemm’d in by his Follower and the Butcher, quoth
he:
‘“_Look’ee here, Gentlemen, I have Six Guineas here, ’tis true, but,
if I should give you one half of it, why, then there is but a quarter
Share of the other two._”
‘“_No, no_”, (replyed they), “_we’ll have Man and Man alike, which is
Two Guineas apiece_.”
‘“_Well_,” (quoth Browne), “_if it must be so, I’m contented; but,
then, I’ll tell you what, I’ll have the odd Eighteen Pence spent_.”
‘“_With all my heart_,” said Blowen. “_We’ll never make a dry Bargain
on’t._”
‘They are all agreed, and _Browne_ leads them up to the _Blackmore’s
Head_ Alehouse, in _Exeter Street_, where a couple of Fowls are
ordered to be laid down, and Stout and Ale is called for by wholesale.
At last they went to Dinner, and, afterwards, _Browne_, changing his
Six Guineas for Silver, gave his Follower (to carry on the jest) Forty
Shillings, and put the rest in his pocket. _Mark Blowen_, seeing that,
began to look surly, and asked for his Share.
‘Said _Browne_: “_What Share, friend?_”
‘Quoth _Mark Blowen_: “_Forty Shillings, as you gave this Man here._”
‘_Browne_ reply’d: “_Why, truly, Sir, I shall have an urgent Occasion
to Night for what Sum I have about me, and if you’ll be pleas’d to lend
me your Share but till_ Monday _Morning, I’ll come and pay you then at
this House without fail, and return you, with infinite thanks, for the
Favour._”
‘Quoth _Mark_ (who was a blundering, rustical sort of a Fellow):
“_D---- me, Sir, don’t think to Tongue-Pad me out of my Due. I’ll have
my Share now, or else he that’s the best Man here of us three shall
have it all, win it, and wear it._”
‘“_Pray, Sir_,” (said _Browne_), “_don’t be in this Passion. I’ll leave
you a sufficient Pledge for it till_ Monday.”
‘Quoth _Mark_: “_Let’s see it._”
‘Hereupon _Browne_ pulls out his Tip-Staff, and lays it on the Table;
but the Butcher, not liking the Complexion of it, began to be moving,
when the Follower, laying Hands on him, they arrested him in an Action
of Eighteen Pounds, and carried him to the _Marshalsea_, where, after a
Confinement of Nine Months, he ended his Days.’
There is another famous bailiff on record, named Jacob Broad; and
of him it is narrated that, ‘being employed to arrest a Justice of
the Peace living near _Uxbridge_, he went down there very often,
and had us’d several Stratagems to take him, but, his Worship being
very cautious in conversing with any of _Jacob’s_ Fraternity, his
Contrivances to nap him prov’d always abortive. However, a great deal
of Money was proffer’d by the Creditor to take the worshipful Debtor;
so one Day _Jacob_, with a couple of his Followers, took a Journey in
the Country, and, being near the end of their Journey, _Jacob_ alights,
and flings his Bridle, Saddle, and Boots into a Thick Hedge, and then
puts a Fetlock[45] on his Horse. The Followers tramp’d it a-foot, to
one of whom giving the Horse, he leads it to a Smith at _Uxbridge_,
and, telling him he had lost the Key of the Fetlock, he desir’d him
to unlock it, whilst he went to a neighbouring Alehouse, where he
would give him a Pot or two of Drink for his Pains. Accordingly the
Smith unlockt it, and carried the Horse to the Alehouse; and, after he
had drank Part of half-a-dozen of Drink, return’d to his Work again.
Shortly after, came the other Follower to the Smith, inquiring if he
did not see such a Horse come by that way, describing at the same time
the Colour and Marks of it, and how his Master had lost him out of his
Grounds that Morning. The Smith reply’d, that such a Horse was brought
to him but a little before, to have a Fetlock taken off, and that he
did imagine the Fellow to be a Rogue that had him; but, however, he
believ’d he was still at such an Alehouse hard by, and might be there
apprehended. Hereupon the Smith and Follower went to the Alehouse,
where they found the Horse standing at the Door, and the other Follower
in the House, whom they call’d a thousand Rogues, and charg’d with a
Constable for a Thief. In the meantime, came _Jacob Broad_, who own’d
the Horse to be his, and the Town-People, being all in a hurly-burly,
they carried him before the Justice whom _Jacob_ wanted; but no sooner
were _Jacob_, the supposed Thief, and the other Follower entered the
House, but charging the Constable to keep the Peace, they arrested his
Worship, and brought him forthwith to _London_, where he was forc’d
to pay the Debt of two hundred and thirty-four Pounds before he could
reach home again.’
Another story is related of Jacob Broad.
‘A certain Gentleman who liv’d at _Hackney_, and had been a Collector
of the late Queen’s Duties, but cheated her of several thousands of
Pounds, goes home, and pretends himself sick. Upon this he keeps his
Bed, and, after a Fortnight’s pretended Illness, it was given out that
he was Dead. Great preparations were then made for his Funeral. His
Coffin, which was filled with Bricks and Saw-Dust, was covered with
black Velvet, and his Wife, and Six Sons and Daughters, all in deep
Mourning, follow’d it to the Grave, which was made in St. _John’s_
Church, at _Hackney_. This sham Funeral was so well carried on, that
all the People of the Town would have sworn the Collector was really
Dead. About a Week after his supposed Interment, _Jacob Broad_ had
an Action of one hundred and fifty Pounds against him. He went to
_Hackney_ to serve the Writ, but, enquiring after the Person he was to
arrest, and being told that he was dead and buried, he return’d home
again.
‘About Seven Years afterwards, the Creditor being certainly inform’d
that the Collector was alive and well in his own House, he employed
_Jacob_ again to arrest him, and accordingly he and another went to
execute the Writ. _Jacob_ planted himself in an Alehouse adjacent to
the long-supposed Deceased’s Habitation, and, while his Aid-de-Camp,
or Follower, was doing something else, he told a Woman, coming by with
a great Load of Turnips on her Head, that the People of such a House
wanted some, which was the House where the Seven Years dead Man dwelt.
She went forthwith and knockt at the Door, which was open’d to let
her in, and the Follower, who was close at her Heels, rush’d in after
her, and ran into a Back Parlour, where he saw the Person (according
to the Description of him) whom he wanted sitting by the Fire Side.
It happening then to be a festival Day, for the Entertainment of the
Collector’s Children, and Grand Children, the Table was spread with
Variety of Dainties; the Follower leapt over the Table, overthrowing
the Viands on it, and laying hold of the Prisoner, all their Mirth was
spoilt at once. In the mean Time came _Jacob Broad_, and, taking out
the supposed dead Man, he seem’d to be overjoy’d at his Resurrection
from a Seven Years’ Confinement and for tasting the fresh Air. _Jacob_
brings him to _London_, whence he remov’d himself by a Writ of _Habeas
Corpus_ to the King’s Bench Prison in _Southwark_, where he died again
in a Week’s time, for he was never heard of till he was seen about
Three Years after in _Denmark_.
‘_Jacob Broad_ was always very happy in having Followers as acute
as himself in any sort of Roguery, especially one _Andrew Vaughan_,
afterwards a Bailiff himself on Saffron Hill, and one _Volly Vance_,
otherwise call’d _Glym Jack_ from his having been a Moon Curser,[46]
or Link Boy ... From a Link Boy _Glym Jack_ came to be _Jacob Broad’s_
Follower, who, together with _Andrew Vaughan_, he once took into the
Country along with him to arrest a Justice of Peace, who was one of the
shyest cocks that ever _Jacob_ had to take by Stratagem. In order to
accomplish this Undertaking, _Jacob_, _Andrew_, and _Glym Jack_ were
very well drest in Apparel, and mounted on good Geldings, having fine
Hangers on their Sides, and Pistols in their Holsters, beside Pocket
Pops sticking in their Bosoms. Being thus accoutred they rid into an
Inn in the Town where the Justice of Peace they wanted dwelt, and,
putting up their Horses, they ask’d the Landlord for a private Room,
which, being accommodated with, they refresh’d themselves with a good
Dinner, and afterwards set to play.
‘Whilst they were shaking their Elbows at 7 or 11 nick it, a great
deal of Money and three or four Watches lying on the Table, when at
last one of ’em cry’d, this Watch is my Snack, for I’m sure I first
attackt the Gentleman from whom we took it; another swore such a Purse
of Gold was his, which they had taken that Morning from a Gentlewoman,
and, in short, everyone of ’em was swearing such a Prize was his, all
which the Landlord (who listened at the Door) overhearing, thought to
himself they were all Highwaymen. Hereupon he goes and acquaints the
shy Justice of Peace with the matter, who ask’d _If he were sure they
were Rogues_.
‘“_Nothing,_” (quoth the Innkeeper), “_is more certain, for they are
all arm’d with more Pistols than ordinary,_ _swearing, damning,
cursing, and sinking every Word they speak, and falling out about
dividing their Booty.”_
‘“_Ay, ay_,” (reply’d the Justice), “_they are then certainly
Highwaymen_,” and so order’d him to secure them.
‘The Innholder went for a Constable, who, with a great many Rusticks,
arm’d with Pitch Forks, long Poles, and other Country Weapons, went
with the Landlord to the Inn, suddenly rush’d into the Room, and
surpriz’d _Jacob_ and his Followers, with Money and Watches lying
before them.
‘“_So_,” (says the Constable), “_pretty Gentlemen, are not ye, that
honest people can’t travel the Country without being robb’d by such
villains as you are?--Well_,” (quoth the Constable to _Jacob_),
“_what’s your Name?_”
‘His answer was _Sice-Ace_.[47]
‘“_A fine Rogue, indeed!_” said the Constable, at the same time asking
_Andrew_ his Name, whose answer was,
‘“_Cinque-Duce_.”
‘“_Another Rogue in Grain!_” quoth the Constable; and then ask’d _Glym
Jack_ what his Name was, who reply’d,
‘“_Quater-Tray_.”
‘“_Rogues! Rogues all!_” said the Constable; “_ay, worse than all, they
are mear Infidels, Heathens, for I never heard such names before in a
Christian Country. Come, Neighbours, bring ’em away before Mr. Justice,
his Worship will soon make them change their Notes._”