Here is intolerance with a vengeance, but in the year 1679 reverence for persons or things was conspicuously absent, and this is best shown by the advertisement which was issued for the purpose of discovering the ruffians, or their patron, who committed the brutal assault upon John Dryden. It appears in the London Gazette of December 22, 1679:—

Notwithstanding the offer of this money, it was never discovered who were the perpetrators, or who was the instigator of this cudgelling. Some fancy its promoter was Rochester, who was offended at some allusions to him in an “Essay on Satire,” written jointly by Dryden and Lord Mulgrove; while others declare that the vanity of the Duchess of Portsmouth, one of the King’s many mistresses, having been offended by a jeu d’esprit of the poet’s, she procured him a rough specimen of her favours. Others, again, have suspected Buckingham, who was never on the best of terms with Dryden, and who sat for the portrait drawn in Zimri (“Absalom and Achitophel”); but profligate and heartless libertine as Villiers was, he was above such a ruffianly reprisal. In the Domestick Intelligence of December 23, 1679, the assault is thus described: “Upon the 17th instant in the evening Mr Dryden the great poet, was set upon in Rose Street in Covent Garden, by three persons, who, calling him rogue, and son of a whore, knockt him down and dangerously wounded him, but upon his crying out murther, they made their escape; it is conceived that they had their pay beforehand, and designed not to rob him but to execute on him some Feminine, if not Popish, vengeance.” In a subsequent number of the same paper there is the following advertisement:—

As a seasonable illustration we present an exact facsimile of a newspaper containing reference to the attack. It is complete as it appears, being simply a single leaf printed back and front, and so the stories of men repeating a whole newspaper from memory are not so wonderful after all. This year (1679) is memorable among journalists as being the first which saw a rising press emancipated, a fact which is sufficiently interesting to be chronicled here, although our subject is not newspapers, but only the advertisements contained in them.[27]

During all this time it must not be supposed that the vendors of quack medicines were at all idle. No political or religious disturbance was ever allowed to interfere with them, and their notices appeared as regularly as, or if possible more regularly than, ever. In a paper we have not before met, the Mercurius Anglicus, date March 6-10, 1679-80, we are introduced for the first time to the cordial which was destined to become so popular among nurses with whom neither the natural milk nor that of human kindness was plentiful, viz., Daffy’s Elixir:—

It is noticeable that about this time people were never sure what year they were in until March, and often during that month; and this is not only so in the dates on newspapers, but is found in Pepys and other writers of the period. Some journals do not give the double date as above, for we have before us as we write two copies of the Domestick Intelligence; or, News both from City and Country, “Published to prevent false Reports,” No. 49 being dated “Tuesday, Decemb. 23, 1679;” and No. 52, “Friday, January 2, 1679.” This has not, as many people have imagined, anything to do with the difference between the New Calendar and the Old, as our alteration of style did not take place till the middle of the next century. It must have been a relic of the old Ecclesiastical year which still affects the financial budget.

That the “agony column” of the present day is the result of slow and laborious growth is shown by an advertisement, cut from a Domestick Intelligence of March 1681, which contains an urgent appeal to one who has in umbrage departed from home:—

An advertisement of this kind, without name or initials, might now, like the celebrated appeal to John Smith, apply itself to the minds of so many who had left their families “on some discontent,” that there would be quite a stampede for home among the married men making a temporary sojourn away from the domestic hearth and its attendant difficulties. Many of them would perhaps find themselves as unwelcome as unexpected.

Our next selection will be interesting to those who are curious on the subject of insurance, which must have been decidedly in its infancy on July 6, 1685, the day on which the following appeared in the London Gazette:—

Advertisements are so far anything but plentiful, there being rarely more than two or three at most beyond the booksellers’ and quack notices; and although nowadays the columns of a newspaper are supposed to be unequalled for affording opportunities for letting houses and apartments, the hereunder notice was, at the time of its publication in the London Gazette, August 17, 1685, perfectly unique:—

Any one who passes through St John’s Lane now, with its squalid tenements, dirty shops, and half-starved population, will have to be possessed of a powerful imagination indeed to picture an earl’s residence as ever standing in the dingy thoroughfare, notwithstanding the neighbourhood has the advantage of a beautiful brand-new meat-market, in place of the old cattle-pens which formerly stood on the open space in front of Bartholomew’s Hospital. Yet as proof of the aristocratic meetings which used to be held in St John’s Lane, the Hospitallers’ Gate still crosses it—the gate which even after the days of chivalry had departed had still a history to make, not of bloodshed and warfare certainly, but of a connection with the highest and finest description of literature.

We now come to the year 1688, when advertising was more common than before, and when Charles having passed away, James held temporary possession of the throne. One, published in the Gazette of March 8, is suggestive of the religious tumult which would shortly end in his downfall:—

Just about this period dreadful outrages were of common occurrence; men were knocked down in the street in open daylight, robbed, and murdered, and not a few deaths were the outcome of private and party hatred. Municipal law was set at defiance, and any small body of desperadoes could do as they liked unchecked, unless they happened to be providentially opposed by equal or superior force, when they generally turned tail, for their practice was not to fight so much as to beat and plunder the defenceless. Here is a notice which speaks volumes for the state of affairs. It is published in the London Gazette, and bears date March 29, 1688:—

About this time some show is made on behalf of those credulous folk who believe that all highwaymen in the good old times were brave, dashing, highly educated, and extremely handsome; for we find several inquiries after robbers who, before troubles came upon them, held superior positions in society. Here is one of the year 1688:—

Mr Jones, culpable as he undoubtedly was, seems to have possessed a sense of honour, and probably he served his friends as well as himself by taking the writs from the mail. The reward offered for his apprehension is so paltry in proportion to the outcry raised, that a disinterested reader, i.e., one who has never felt the smart of highway robbery, cannot help hoping that he got clear off, or that at all events he cheated the gallows by earning a soldier’s death “in some of the new-raised troops.” Although Mr Jones was a gentleman thief, and had gentlemanly associates, he and his friends are the exceptions to the rule; for robbers generally are described as a very sad as well as a very ugly lot of reprobates. Also in the same eventful year of delivery we find the following, which appears in the London Gazette, the subject of it having evidently thought to avail himself of the disturbances of the time, but whether successfully or the reverse, does not appear:—

This advertisement is suggestive of the taste in blackamoors, which began to manifest itself about this time, and which had a long run—the coloured creature who was in later times a negro, but in these a Moor, being often regarded as a mere soulless toy, a companion of the pug-dog, or an ornament to be classified with the vases and other china monstrosities which were just then the vogue. The next advertisement we have is of a very different character, and has a distinct bearing upon the political question of the times; it also seems to show that the value of advertising was beginning to be still more understood, and that with the advent of a new sovereign the attention of the commercial classes was once more directed so much to business that even party feeling was to be made a source of profit. The extract is from the New Observator of July 17, 1689:—

This was a popular and rather practical method of celebrating the triumph of the Whigs, and as Bishop Burnet was the editor of the New Observator, and these cards were sold by his publisher, he is very likely to have had a hand in their promotion. About now the traffic in African slaves commenced, and these full-blooded blacks gradually displaced the Moors and Arabs, who had formerly been the prevalent coloured “fancy.” It is supposed that the taste for these dark-skinned servants was derived from the Venetians, whose intercourse with the traders of India and Africa naturally led to their introduction. Moors are constantly being associated with the sea-girt Republic, both in literature and art, Shakespeare’s “Moor of Venice” being somewhat of an instance in point; while Titian and other painters of his school were extremely fond of portraying coloured men of all descriptions. By 1693, however, the negro had not altogether pushed out the Moor, if we may judge by an advertisement dated January 9-12, 1692-93, and appearing in the London Gazette:—

Another advertisement, which appears in the same paper a couple of years later, shows that the owners of these chattels considered their rights of property complete, as they put collars round their necks with names and addresses, just the same as they would have placed on a dog, or similar to that worn by “Gurth the thrall of Cedric.” This individual seems to have been different from any of the others we have met, as he is evidently a dusky Asiatic who has been purchased from his parents by some adventurous trader, and whose thraldom sits heavily upon him. This is his description:—

It seems hardly possible that a poor little wretch like this would have run away—for whither could he run with any hope of securing his freedom?—unless he had been unkindly treated. There is little doubt—though we are, through the medium of the pictures of this and a later time, in the habit of regarding the dark-faced, white-turbaned, and white-toothed slaves as personifications of that happiness which is denied to higher intellects and fairer fortunes—that often they were the victims of intense cruelty, and now and then of that worst of all despotisms, the tyranny of an ill-natured and peevish woman.

We now come upon an advertisement, which shows something of the desire that was always felt by residents in the country for the least scintillations of news; and the concoctor of the notice seems fully aware of this desire, as well as possessed of a plan by means of which he may make it a source of profit to himself. It occurs in a copy of the Flying Post of the year 1694:—

By this means the newspaper and the private letter were combined, and it is easy to understand the delight with which a gossiping and scandalising effusion, possessed of the additional advantage of being written on this kind of paper, was received at a lonely country house, by people pining after the gaieties of metropolitan life. The newsletter proper was a very ancient article of intercommunication, and it seems strange that it should have flourished long after the introduction of newspapers, which it certainly did. This may be accounted for by the fact, that during the time of the Rebellion it was much safer to write than to print any news which was intended to be read at a distance, or which had any political significance. It has been remarked that many of these newsletters “were written by strong partisans, and contained information which it was neither desirable nor safe that their opponents should see. They were passed on from hand to hand in secret, and often indorsed by each successive reader. We are told that the Cavaliers, when taken prisoners, have been known to eat their newsletters; and some of Prince Rupert’s, which had been intercepted, are still in existence, and bear dark red stains which testify to the desperate manner in which they were defended. It is pretty certain, however, that as a profession newsletter writing began to decline after the Revolution, though we find the editor of the Evening Post, as late as the year 1709, reminding its readers that ‘there must be three or four pounds a year paid for written news.’ At the same time, the public journals, it is clear, had not performed that part of their office which was really more acceptable to the country reader than any other—the retailing the political and social chit-chat of the day. We have only to look into the public papers to convince ourselves how woefully they fell short in a department which must have been the staple of the newswriter.” It would seem, therefore, that this effort of Mr Salusbury was to combine the old letter with the modern paper, and thus at once oblige his customers and save a time-honoured institution from passing away. It would seem as if he succeeded, for there are in the British Museum many specimens of papers, half print half manuscript; and as most of the written portions are of an extremely treasonable nature, possibly the opportunity to send the kind of news which suited them best, and thus combine friendship and duty, was eagerly seized by the Jacobites. But how singular after all it seems for an editor to invite his subscribers to write their own news upon their own newspapers!

We are now getting very near the end of the seventeenth century, and among the curious and quaint advertisements which attract attention, as we pore over the old chronicles which mark the close of the eventful cycle which has seen so much of revolution and disaster, and of the worst forms of religious and political fanaticisms carried to their most dreadful extremes, is the following. It appears in Salusbury’s Flying Post of October 27, 1696, and gives a good idea of manners and customs, which do not so far appear to have altered for the better:—

And just about this time we come upon some more applications from our old friend Houghton, who seems to be doing a thriving business, and is as full of wants as even he could almost desire. In a number of his Collection for the Improvement of Husbandry and Trade he expresses a wish as follows:—

And again, his wishes being evidently for the perfection of servants, even to—which is rather an anomaly in domestic servitude—getting security. Many servants must in those days have wished to get security for the honesty of their masters:—

Houghton was noticeable for expressing a decided opinion with regard to the quality of whatever he recommends, and, as we have shown, was not at all modest in his own desires. Even he, however, could rarely have designed such a bargain as this:—

This is the last we shall see of old Houghton, who did much good in his time, not only for other people but for himself as well, and who may be fairly regarded as, if not the father, certainly one of the chief promoters of early advertising.

The next public notice we find upon our list is one which directs itself to all who may wish to be cured of madness, though why people who are really and comfortably mad should wish to have the trouble of being sane, we do not profess to understand. However, it is not likely that this gentleman helped them, for he overdoes it, and offers rather too much. The notice appears in the Post Boy of January 6-9, 1699:—

Notwithstanding the writer’s proficiency in the cure of lunatics, he seems to have been sorely exercised with regard to the spelling of the word, and he is ingenious enough in other respects. The remark about no cure no pay, it is noticeable, refers only to the cases of lunacy, and not to those of dropsy, for the evident reason that it is quite possible to make a madman believe he is sane, while it would be rather hard to lead a dropsical person into the impression that he is healthy. Quacks swarm about this period, but as we shall devote special attention to them anon, we will now step into the year 1700, beginning with the Flying Post for January 6-9, which contains this, a notice of a regular physician of the time:—

This is cheap enough, in all conscience, and yet there is little doubt that the afflicted infinitely preferred the nostrums so speciously advertised by empirics to treatment according to the pharmacopœia. We have good authority for the statement that faith will move mountains, and it seems, if we are to judge by the testimonials published from time immemorial by vendors of ointment and pills, to have moved mountainous tumours, wens, and carbuncles, for without it soft soap, bread, and bacon fat would be of little use indeed. Glorious John Dryden died early in this year, and a hoaxing advertisement appeared in the Post Boy of May 4-7, which called for elegies, &c.:—

Other advertisements followed this, and from them it appears that the shop of Henry Playford was inundated with manuscripts of all lengths and kinds, and in many languages. What became of them does not make itself known, which is a pity, as many must have been equal to any specimen which occurs in the “Rejected Addresses,” with the advantage and recommendation of being genuine.

It is strange that so far we have met with no theatrical or musical advertisement or public notice of any forthcoming amusement, for it appeared most probable that as soon as ever advertising became at all popular it would have been devoted to the interest of all pursuits of pleasure. In 1700, however, we come upon what must be considered the really first advertisement issued from a playhouse, and, as a curiosity, reproduce it from the columns of the Flying Post of July 4:—

This lead was soon followed by more important houses, and in a very few years we have lists regularly published of the amusements at all theatres. Theatrical managers have in all times been blessed with a strong faculty of imitation, and though it seems immensely developed just now, the lessees of a hundred and seventy years ago were just as keen to follow the scent of anything which had proved fortunate on the venture of any one possessed of pluck or originality.

We have reserved for the end of this chapter two advertisements of an individual who, according to his own showing, would have been invaluable to some of the members of the various school boards of the present, and have enabled them to keep pace with the pupils under their supervision, a consummation devoutly to be wished. However, if we cannot have Mr Switterda, some other deus ex machinâ may yet arise. The first is from the Postman of July 6-9, and runs thus:—

It is evident that Mr Switterda was of an accommodating disposition, and doubtless did well not only out of those who agreed by the great—a species of scholastic slang we are unable to understand positively, however much we may surmise—but out of those who were content, or were perforce compelled to put up, with the small. Here is another “high-falutin’” notice which appears in the same paper about a month later, and which shows that the advertiser is also possessed of a power of puffing his own goods which must have aroused the envy and admiration of other quacks, in an age when they were not only numerous but singularly fertile in expedient:—

How different from the puffing and pretentious announcements just given is the one of the same time which follows, as we read which we can hear the hum of the little country schoolroom, and see the master with his wig all awry, deep in snuff and study, the mistress keenly alive to the disposition of her girls, and the pupils of both sexes, as pupils are often even nowadays, intent upon anything but their lessons or work. London is forty miles away, and the coach is an object of wonder and admiration to the villagers, who look upon the pupils who have come from the great city with awe and reverence, while the master is supposed to diffuse learning from every pore in his body, and to scatter knowledge with every wave of his hand. The mistress is also an object of veneration, but her accomplishments are more within the ken of rustic folk, and she, good simple dame, who imagines her husband to be the most learned man in all the King, God bless him’s, dominions, delights to talk about the clergymen they have educated, and has been the principal cause of his inditing and publishing this notice:—

And with these proofs that the schoolmaster was very much abroad at the time, we will take leave of the seventeenth century.

CHAPTER VIII.
EARLY PART OF EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

It is now apparent that advertising has become recognised as a means of communication not only for the conveniencies of trade, but for political, lovemaking, fortune-hunting, swindling, and the thousand and one other purposes which are always ready to assert themselves in a large community. It is also evident that as years have progressed, advertising has become more and more necessary to certain trades, the principals in which a comparatively short time before would have scorned the idea of ventilating their wares through the columns of the public press. So it is therefore as well to notice the rates which were charged by some of the papers. This was before the duty was placed upon advertisements, when the arrangement was simply between one who wished a notice inserted in a paper, and another who possessed the power of making such insertion. It is of course impossible to tell what the rates were on all papers, but as some had notices of price per advertisement stated at foot, a fair estimate may be made. The first advertisements were so few that no notice was called for, and it was not until every newspaper looked forward to the possession of more or less that the plan of stating charges became common. About the period of which we are now writing, long advertisements were unknown; they generally averaged about eight lines of narrow measure, and were paid for at about a shilling each, with fluctuations similar in degree to those of the leading papers of the present day. Various rules obtained upon various papers. One journal, the “Jockey’s Intelligencer, or Weekly Advertisements for Horses and Second-Hand Coaches to be Bought and Sold,” which appeared towards the end of the seventeenth century, charged “a shilling for a horse or coach for notification, and sixpence for renewing.” Still later, the County Gentleman’s Courant seems to have been the first paper to charge by the line, and in one of its numbers appears the following rather non-sequitous statement: “Seeing promotion of trade is a matter which ought to be encouraged, the price of advertisements is advanced to twopence per line.” Very likely many agreed with the writer, who seems to have had a follower several years afterwards—a corn dealer, who during a great dearth stuck up the following notification: “On account of the great distress in this town, the price of flour will be raised one shilling per peck.” But neither of these men meant what he said, though doubtless he thought he did.

The first advertisement with which we open the century is of a semi-religious character, and betrays a very inquiring disposition on the part of the writer. Facts of the kind required are, however, too stubborn to meet with publication at the request of everybody, and if Mr Keith and other controversialists had been trammelled by them, there is every probability that the inquiry we now republish would never have seen the light:—

The foregoing is from the Postman of March 1701, and in July the same paper contains a very different notice, which will give an idea of the amusements then in vogue, and rescue from oblivion men whose names, great as they are in the advertisement, seem to have been passed over unduly by writers on ancient sports and pastimes, who seem to regard Figg and Broughton as the fathers of the backsword and the boxing match:—

Exhibitions of swordsmanship and cudgel-play were very frequent in the early part of the eighteenth century, but ultimately pugilism, which at first was merely an auxiliary of the other sports, took the lead, most probably through the invention of mufflers or gloves, first brought into notice by Broughton, who was the most skilful boxer of his time. This was, however, many years subsequent to the date of the foregoing.

The year 1702 is noticeable from the fact that in it was produced the first daily paper with which we have any acquaintance, and, unless the doctrine that nothing is new under the sun holds good in this case, the first daily paper ever published. From it we take the following, which appears on December 1, and which seems—as no name or address is given, and as the advertiser does not even know the name of the gentleman, or anything about him beyond what is told in the advertisement—to have emanated from one of the stews which were even then pretty numerous in London:—