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.