"The Commander in Chief of Brighton Camp has notified to the Officers, that the use of Flour, for the privates, will be dispensed with, during the present scarcity of Wheat."—(Times, July 15, 1795.)
"HAIR POWDER. To all those whom it may concern.
"Among the many ingenious, and humane, projects that have been devised for lessening the consumption of Flour, and soothing the minds of the poor, at this interesting period, it is a matter of no small astonishment to me, that that of sacrificing our hair-powder, has not been more universally adopted. To the antiquated virgin, indeed, who still sighs, and hopes, and whose silvery locks might prove too sure an index of that worldly experience, which, for certain prudential reasons, she might wish to conceal, I confess the sacrifice is too great to be expected. To the unhappy hen-peck'd bald-pate, whose lively wife nauseates, and detests, the careless brown-bob, something may be said in his behalf, also: but, to every other character, whether the grave judge, or respectable grandmother, the buxom widow, or the broad shouldered Irish fortune-hunter, the flirting coquette, or her coxcomb colleague, the hardy veteran, or flashy militia captain, the pert lawyer, or the young priggish parson: and lastly, the smart apprentice, who beflours his head to cut a dash at the Dog and Duck, or Bagnigge Wells: all these, I say, and every other character that I have omitted to name, can surely have no possible excuse for thus insulting the feelings of the poor. I repeat the word insulting, for it is the just and proper epithet; for what can we term it but insult, to be thus playing with the feelings of these poor wretches, at a moment when they are suffering the greatest of all worldly miseries—want."—(Times, Aug. 10, 1795.)
"A morning Paper of yesterday, mentions by name, that a Nobleman of the highest rank, in this country, was, last week, summoned to the Police-Office, Queen's Square, for wearing powder without being licensed. The defence set up that his Grace, being a Menial Servant, in the King's Household, was exempt from the Tax: which, being admitted, the matter was dismissed.—We trust that this information is not authentic, for it would be a most pitiful subterfuge to evade the payment of a tax, which is generally allowed to be a proper one." (Times, Feb. 1, 1797.)—(Query, the Duke of Portland.)
All articles of luxury, and very many of absolute necessity, were taxed to supply the drain of the war—and, doubtless, people had to be economical—but the following advertisement reduces economy to a science:—
"ADVANTAGEOUS HAT SUBSCRIPTION. Stamps included.
"Three Hats, value £1, 1s. each, at £1, 14s. 6d. per Ann., delivered as follows. Two on Subscription, the third at the end of eight months, when the two first must be returned, and the third at the end of the year. Four Hats, value £1, 4s. each, at £2, 6s. per Ann., delivered as follows. Two on subscribing, and two at the end of six months, when the two first must be returned, and the other two at the end of the year. The Hats changed as the Fashions vary during subscribing. To remove all prejudices, Gentlemen may call at the Manufactory and see the quality. Old Hats taken in part of the subscription money. Durant and Pitra, Hat Manufactory, middle of Monmouth St."—(Times, Aug. 25, 1796.)
On Nov. 22, 1798, Pitt brought forward his annual statement, relating to public finance—and proposed to raise £7,000,000, by a new tax called a triple assessment—but, eventually, it turned out that it, with the land tax, brought in but about 4-1/2 Millions. A Briton can extract some fun, even out of his misfortunes, so they caricatured this heavy tax. In Dec. 1797 appeared a picture entitled "More visitors to John Bull; or the Assessed Taxes"—showing four little imps coming to John Bull. He naturally asks, "What do you want, you little devils?—ain't I plagued with enough of you already? more pick pocket's work, I suppose?" But the diablotins courteously reply, "Please your honour, we are the Assessed Taxes."
On Dec. 3, 1798, Mr. Pitt again made his annual financial statement—and, of course, he wanted more money—and the way by which he proposed to raise the necessary funds—was by imposing a Tax on Income. He proposed that no income under £60 a year should be touched—and from that sum, to £200 per annum, should be on a smaller scale than over £200—past which sum—a full tenth of all incomes would be demanded. The returns were to be made by the person assessed, subject to the inspection of a surveyor, who should lay before the commissioners any grounds he might have for suspecting the return to be false. The commissioners had no power to call for account books, or to examine clerks, &c. But, if the individual did not clear himself, and they thought he had not returned sufficient, they could make such assessment as they thought fit. After a long debate it was carried by 183 to 17, and made law on 18th Mar. 1799. By the accompanying caricature, "A Visitor to John Bull, for the year 1799, or the Assessed Taxes taking their leave," it was evidently the public impression that the Income Tax would supersede the Assessed Taxes. But it was not so, as they were still kept on.
The little demons still behave courteously towards John Bull, who looks in undisguised horror at the size of the awful fund (the Income Tax) now taking possession of him.