Judgments in Vacation

by Sir Edward Abbott Parry

That, if any, is the answer to the question, “Why be an Author?”

WHICH WAY IS THE TIDE?

“O call back yesterday, bid time return.”

Richard II. iii., 2.

Dozing in a railway carriage on a journey to Wales I listened dreamily to the faint echoes of an argument between a gentleman of the old school who contended that the country was going to the dogs, and a younger enthusiast who was optimistic as to the present and future of our race. It was at Deganwy that the older man, who had, I thought, somewhat the worst of the argument, pointed to the sea and said, with the air of one who uttered a new thought, that it was impossible for those who stood on the shore to say at the moment which way the tide was setting. The younger man accepted the stale simile with the courteous reverence that is the debt we willingly pay to age when we know that we know better.

A few days afterwards a friend handed me a copy of an old newspaper. His wife had discovered it with other of its fellows during the Spring cleaning. “The things,” she said in her practical way, “were harbouring dirt.” But from my point of view they were also harbouring history, and turning over the single sheet it occurred to me that it might help one to a conclusion about the ever interesting problem “which way is the tide?” The newspaper was, to be exact, the Manchester Guardian, of Saturday, January 24th, 1824, No. 143 of Vol. IV. The price was sevenpence or seven and sixpence a quarter if paid in advance, and eight shillings on credit. In the matter of price the tide was clearly with the moderns. There was an excellent wood-cut on the front page, a semi-advertisement—as I took it—of Messrs. David Bellhouse and Sons, of Eagle Quay, Oxford Road, who “respectfully informed the public that they have commenced carriers of timber by water betwixt Liverpool and Manchester” by means of a paddle steam tug “The Eagle,” with a funnel, the height of its mast and a huge square sail and two Union Jacks, one floating at the masthead and the other astern, and accompanying rafts of timber following the tug. In another column Fredk. and Chas. Barry, sworn brokers, of Vine Street, America Square, London, advertise that the fine fast sailing new brig, Walworth Castle, 240 tons, A.1. coppered, I. Wrentmore, Commander, will sail for Vera Cruz from London, and had only room for about fifty tons of goods. Certainly in the matter of the carriage of goods at sea and by canal we seem to have made progress. When you come to the matter of passenger traffic, it is interesting to read of “The Telegraph,” which leaves every afternoon at 3.30 for London through Macclesfield, Leek, Derby, Leicester, and Northampton to the White Horse, Fetter Lane. In the same column we read of the “North Briton” and “Robert Burns,” which leave every morning at 4.30, and run through Chorley, Preston, Lancaster, Kendal, and Carlisle, to the Buck Inn, Glasgow, and the splendid service of six coaches to Liverpool, starting at intervals from 5 a.m. to 5.30 in the evening. This column of coach advertisements is fine picturesque reading, but it is a little old-fashioned by the side of a sixpenny Bradshaw of to-day.

Again, if we turn to the report of the Salford Epiphany Quarter Sessions, Thomas Starkie, Esquire, Chairman, we have much to be thankful for in latter-day records. It must be remembered of course that the Sessions of to-day are more frequent, and different Sessions are held in small areas. Still, in January, 1824, there were no less than 240 prisoners, a number far in excess of anything we read of to-day. Nearly all the cases seem to have been cases of stealing, and there were few acquittals. The sentences were terrible, and only those who remember sentences given by some of the minor tribunals in comparatively recent years can credit the fact that such sentences were passed by humane and thoughtful men, in what was genuinely believed to be the interest of society. A long list of sentences begins thus: “Transported for life, William Thomas (16), for stealing one pocket handkerchief.” Lower down we find that Thomas Kinsey (21), for stealing thirty pieces of cotton cloth, gets off with transportation for fourteen years. The number of young people that are transported for small thefts is astonishing. Martha Jowett (30), for stealing a purse; John Webster (19) and John Drinkwater (24), for stealing a gun; Martha Myers (16), for stealing wearing apparel, and Mary Mason (24), for stealing a purse, are all among the list of those transported for seven years. More aristocratic sinners had a better chance of acquittal, and the receivers of the Birmingham notes stolen from the Balloon coach were respited because the jury found that the receiving “was elsewhere than in the County of Lancaster,” and counsel successfully contended that they must be discharged. Certainly in these matters the tide has flowed towards less crime and more humanity to prisoners since 1824.

But whereas human institutions seem to have improved, human nature seems to have been much as it is to-day. Dr. Lamert—the predecessor of many twentieth century quacks—is at No. 68 Piccadilly, ready to be consulted about and to cure “all diseases incidental to the human frame,” and has his testimonials and affidavits as to the success of his treatment almost in the very language in which we can read them to-day. “The greatest discovery in the memory of man is universally allowed to be the celebrated Cordial Balm of Rakasiri,” whose name is “blown on the bottle” and whose properties will cure any disease from “headache to consumptions.” “Smith’s Genuine Leamington Salts are confidently offered to the public under the recommendation of Dr. Kerr, Northampton,” and other eminent medical men, whilst from Mottershead and other chemists you can obtain Black Currant Lozenges “in which are concentrated all the well-known virtues of that fruit.” In this backwater of life the tide seems to be running, if at all, the other way. In the matter of gambling, too, it would be hard to say whether State lotteries, well protected from private imitations, were worse for our morals than free trade in bookmaking, coupled by uncertain and unequally worked police supervision. In the paper before me, “T. Bish, of the Old State Lottery Office, 4 Cornhill, respectfully reminds his best friends the public that the State lottery begins the 19th of next month.” There are to be seven £20,000 prizes and many others, and “in the very last Lottery Bish shared and sold 18,564, a prize of £20,000, 1379 a prize of £10,000, and several other capitals.” Bish of 1824 was but one evil more or less honest in his dealings and controlled by the State. Bish of 1911 is a legion of bookmakers, more or less dishonest and wholly uncontrolled. Still I am far from saying things are not better so, and even here could we discern it clearly the tide may be flowing the right way.

In the interest taken in art and literature it would be hard to say that we do not see signs of earnestness and enthusiasm in this one newspaper of 1824 that it would be hard to find in a single copy of a journal of to-day. The people of Liverpool are sinking sectarian differences and starting a mechanics and apprentices’ library, and already have 1,500 volumes. It is true that the whole thing was done very much on the lines of the gospel according to Mr. Barlow and Mr. Fairchild, but it was being done with enthusiasm. The elder Mr. Gladstone sent ten pounds and a letter of “correct ideas,” which was read to the meeting, but unfortunately we shall never read the “correct ideas” which were “basketed” by the then subeditor. The Library was to contain no works of controversial theology or politics, and the Liverpool Advertiser sees with regret that “Egan’s Sporting Anecdotes” was amongst a number of volumes contributed by an American gentleman. The Pharisee, we must admit, is with us to-day, and even in well governed cities sometimes finds a place on Library Committees. But here is another announcement in this wonderful number of the newspaper which lovers of art will read with pious interest. “There is to be a General Meeting of the Governors of the Manchester Institution, to consider a report to be submitted with reference to the building and to the general welfare of the Institution.” Below this is printed “amounts already advertised £14,610,” and then follows a list of between thirty and forty new hereditary members subscribing forty guineas apiece.