Certainly time enough seems to have elapsed between the dialogue and the publication of this advertisement to allow of all angry passions to have subsided; but Robert Curtis, whose name is thus preserved till now, would seem to have been a careful youth, picking his way clear of pitfalls, and with shrewdness sufficient to discover that anonymity but too often disguises foul intent. In that particular matters have not considerably improved even up to the present time.

The year 1720 is memorable in the history of England, as seeing the abnormal growth and consequent explosion of the greatest swindle of comparatively modern times, and one of the most colossal frauds of any time, the South Sea Scheme, which has been best known since as the South Sea Bubble. Its story has been told so often, and in so many ways, that it is hardly necessary to dwell upon it here; but as, though nearly every one has heard of the scheme, there are but few who know anything about it, we may as well give once again a short résumé of its business operations. It was started by Harley in 1711, with the view of paying off the floating national debt, which at that time amounted to about £10,000,000. A contemporary writer says: “This debt was taken up by a number of eminent merchants, to whom the Government agreed to guarantee for a certain period the annual payment of £600,000 (being six per cent. interest), a sum which was to be obtained by rendering permanent a number of import duties. The monopoly of the trade to the South Seas was also secured to these merchants, who were accordingly incorporated as the ‘South Sea Company,’ and at once rose to a high position in the mercantile world. The wondrously extravagant ideas then current respecting the riches of the South American continent were carefully fostered and encouraged by the Company, who also took care to spread the belief that Spain was prepared, on certain liberal conditions, to admit them to a considerable share of its South American trade; and as a necessary consequence, a general avidity to partake in the profits of this most lucrative speculation sprang up in the public mind. It may be well to remark in this place, that the Company’s trading projects had no other result than a single voyage of one ship in 1717, and that its prominence in British history is due entirely to its existence as a purely monetary corporation. Notwithstanding the absence of any symptoms of its carrying out its great trading scheme, the Company had obtained a firm hold on popular favour, and its shares rose day by day; and even when the outbreak of war with Spain in 1718 deprived the most sanguine of the slightest hope of sharing in the treasures of the South Seas, the Company continued to flourish. Far from being alarmed at the expected and impending failure of a similar project—the Mississippi Scheme—the South Sea Company believed sincerely in the feasibility of Law’s Scheme, and resolved to avoid what they considered as his errors. Trusting to the possibility of pushing credit to its utmost extent without danger, they proposed, in the spring of 1720, to take upon themselves the whole national debt (at that time £30,981,712) on being guaranteed 5 per cent. per annum for seven and a half years, at the end of which time the debt might be redeemed if the Government chose, and the interest reduced to 4 per cent. The directors of the Bank of England, jealous of the prospective benefit and influence which would thus accrue to the South Sea Company, submitted to Government a counter-proposal; but the more dazzling nature of their rival’s offer secured its acceptance by Parliament—in the Commons by 172 to 55, and (April 7) in the Lords by 83 to 17; Sir Robert Walpole in the former, and Lords North and Grey, the Duke of Wharton and Earl Cowper in the latter, in vain protesting against it as involving inevitable ruin. During the passing of their bill, the Company’s stock rose steadily to 330 on April 7,[32] falling to 290 on the following day. Up till this date the scheme had been honestly promoted; but now, seeing before them the prospect of speedily amassing abundant wealth, the directors threw aside all scruples, and made use of every effective means at their command, honest or dishonest, to keep up the factitious value of the stock. Their zealous endeavours were crowned with success; the shares were quoted at 550 on May 28, and 890 on June 1. A general impression having by this time gained ground that the stock had reached its maximum, so many holders rushed to realise that the price fell to 630 on June 3. As this decline did not suit the personal interests of the directors, they sent agents to buy up eagerly; and on the evening of June 3, 750 was the quoted price. This and similar artifices were employed as required, and had the effect of ultimately raising the shares to 1000 in the beginning of August, when the chairman of the Company and some of the principal directors sold out. On this becoming known, a widespread uneasiness seized the holders of stock; every one was eager to part with his shares, and on September 12 they fell to 400, in spite of all the attempts of the directors to bolster up the Company’s credit. The consternation of those who had been either unable or unwilling to part with their scrip was now extreme; many capitalists absconded, either to avoid ruinous bankruptcy, or to secure their ill-gotten gains, and the Government became seriously alarmed at the excited state of public feeling. Attempts were made to prevail on the Bank to come to the rescue by circulating some millions of Company’s bonds; but as the shares still declined, and the Company’s chief cashiers, the Sword Blade Company, now stopped payment, the Bank refused to entertain the proposal. The country was now wound up to a most alarming pitch of excitement; the punishment of the fraudulent directors was clamorously demanded, and Parliament was hastily summoned (December 8) to deliberate on the best means of mitigating this great calamity. Both Houses proved, however, to be in as impetuous a mood as the public; and in spite of the moderate counsels of Walpole, it was resolved (December 9) to punish the authors of the national distresses, though hitherto no fraudulent acts had been proved against them. An examination of the proceedings of the Company was at once commenced; and on Walpole’s proposal nine millions of South Sea bonds were taken up by the Bank, and a similar amount by the East India Company. The officials of the Company were forbidden to leave the kingdom for twelve months, or to dispose of any of their property or effects. Ultimately various schemes, involving the deepest fraud and villany, were discovered to have been secretly concocted and carried out by the directors; and it was proved that the Earl of Sunderland, the Duchess of Kendal, the Countess Platen and her two nieces, Mr Craggs, M.P., the Company’s secretary, Mr Charles Stanhope, a secretary of the Treasury, and the Sword Blade Company, had been bribed to promote the Company’s bill in Parliament by a present of £170,000 of South Sea stock. The total amount of fictitious stock created for this and similar purposes was £1,260,000, nearly one-half of which had been disposed of. Equally flagrant iniquity in the allocation of shares was discovered, in which, among others, Mr Aislabie, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, was implicated. Of these offenders, Mr Stanhope and the Earl of Sunderland were acquitted through the unworthy partiality of the Parliament; but Mr Aislabie, and the other directors who were members of the House of Commons, were expelled; most of the directors were discovered, and all of them suffered confiscation of their possessions. The chairman was allowed to retain only £5000 out of £183,000, and others in proportion to their share in the fraudulent transactions of the Company. At the end of 1720, it being found that £13,300,000 of real stock belonged to the Company, £8,000,000 of this was taken and divided among the losers, giving them a dividend of 33¹⁄₃ per cent.; and by other schemes of adjustment the pressure was so fairly and wisely distributed, that the excitement gradually subsided.” It will thus be seen that the South Sea Bubble was, after all, not more disastrous in its effects than many modern and comparatively unknown speculations.

It is singular that the South Sea Bubble led to little—almost nothing—in the way of advertisements. When we think of the columns which now herald the advent of any new company, or for the matter of that, any new idea of an old company, or any fresh specific or article of clothing, it seems strange that at a time when the art of advertising was fast becoming fashionable, no invitations to subscribe were published in any of the daily or weekly papers that then existed. Just before the consent of Parliament was obtained we find one or two stray advertisements certainly, but they have no official status, as may be judged by this, which is from the Post Boy, April 2-5, 1720:—

In the Daily Courant of April 4 is also the following, which shows the immense amount of the stock possessed by private individuals. The reward offered for the recovery of the warrant seems ridiculously small, let its value be what it might to the finder:—

The only official notification in reference to the Bubble is found in the London Gazette, “published by authority,” of April 5-9, 1720. It is the commencement of a list of Acts passed by the King, and runs thus:—

The advertisement then goes on to state what other Acts received the royal assent, but with none of them have we anything to do. In the Post Boy of June 25-28 there is a notice of a contract being lost, which runs thus:—

And in the issue of the same paper for June 30-July 1 we find this, which refers to the Company on which all the South Sea directors’ orders were made payable:—

These are, however, only incidental advertisements, which might have occurred had the Company been anything but that which it was; and so we have only to remark on the peculiar quietness with which all rigging operations were managed in those days. One of the paragraphs quoted in a note a short distance back will, however, account for the fact that advertisements were not found in the usual places.

The growth of the disgusting system which permitted of public combats between women is exhibited in several advertisements of 1722, the most noticeable among them being one in which a challenge and reply are published as inducements to the public to disburse their cash and witness a spectacle which must have made many a strong man sick:—

The precaution taken with the half-crowns to keep the hands clenched and so prevent scratching, shows that even these degraded creatures had not quite forgotten the peculiarities of the sex. And that there is piety in pugilism—even of this kind—is proved by the admittance that the Deity had to give his consent to “the ladies’ battle.” But Mesdames Wilkinson and Hyfield sink into insignificance when compared with the heroines of the following, which is cut from the Daily Post of July 17, 1728:—

Pugilism was evidently a much valued accomplishment among the lower-class ladies in 1728, and there is no doubt that Mrs Stokes and Mrs Field were considered very estimable persons as well as great athletes in their respective circles. There is, moreover, a suspicion of humour about the reference to the asses in the reply of Mrs Stokes. In the happily-named Rugged and Tuff we see the forerunner of that line of champions of the ring which, commencing with Figg and Broughton, ran unbroken up to comparatively modern days. Other advertisements about this period relate to cock-matches and mains, sometimes specified to “last the week,” to bull-baiting in its ordinary and sometimes in its more cruel form of dressing up the beasts with fireworks, so as to excite both them and the savage dogs to their utmost. Perhaps brutality was never so rampant, or affected so many phases of society as it did in the first half of the eighteenth century. Slavery was considered a heaven-born institution, not alone as regards coloured races, for expeditions to the Plantations went on merrily and afforded excellent opportunities for the disposal of any one who happened to make himself objectionable by word or deed, or even by his very existence. The wicked uncle with an eye on the family property had a very good time then, and the rightful heir was often doomed to a slavery almost worse than death. Apropos of slavery, we may as well quote a very short advertisement which shows how the home trade flourished in 1728. It is from the Daily Journal of September 28:—

Negroes had in 1728 become quite common here, and had pushed out their predecessors, the Moors and Asiatics, who formerly held submissive servitude. This was probably owing to the nefarious traffic commenced in 1680 by Hawkins, which in little more than a hundred years caused the departure from their African homes and the transplanting in Jamaica alone of 910,000 negroes, to say nothing of those who died on the voyage, or who found their way to England and other countries.

CHAPTER IX.
MIDDLE OF EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

The further we advance into the years which mark the Hanoverian succession, the more profligate, reckless, and cruel do the people seem to become. Public exhibitions of the most disgusting character are every day advertised; ruffians and swashbucklers abound, and are ready to do anything for a consideration; animals are tortured at set periods for the delectation of the multitude; and we see verified, by means of the notices in the papers, the peculiarities which Hogarth seized and made immortal, and which so many squeamish people consider to be overdrawn nowadays. Assignations of the most immoral character are openly advertised, and men of the time may well have attempted to ignore the existence of female virtue. A recent writer, commenting on this state of affairs, says, in reference to the latter class of shameless advertisements: “We are far from saying that such matters are not managed now through the medium of advertisements, for they are, but in how much more carefully concealed a manner? The perfect contempt of public opinion, or rather the public acquiescence in such infringements of the moral law which it exhibits, proves the general state of morality more than the infringements themselves, which obtain more or less at all times. Two of the causes which led to this low tone of manners with respect to women were doubtless the detestable profligacy of the courts of the two first Georges, and the very defective condition of the existing marriage law. William and Mary, and Anne, had, by their decorous, not to say frigid lives, redeemed the crown, and in some measure the aristocracy, from the vices of the Restoration. Crown, court, and quality, however, fell into a still worse slough on the accession of the Hanoverian king, who soiled afresh the rising tone of public life by his scandalous connection with the Duchess of Kendal and the Countess of Darlington; whilst his son and successor was absolutely abetted in his vicious courses by his own queen, who promoted his commerce with his two mistresses, the Countesses of Suffolk and Yarmouth. The degrading influence of the royal manners was well seconded by the condition of the law. Keith’s Chapel in Mayfair, and that at the Fleet, were the Gretna Greens of the age, where children could get married at any time of the day or night for a couple of crowns. It was said at the time that at the former chapel six thousand persons were annually married in this offhand way; the youngest of the beautiful Miss Gunnings was wedded to the Duke of Hamilton at twelve o’clock at night, with a ring off the bed-curtain, at this very ‘marriage-shop.’ The fruits of such unions may be imagined. The easy way in which the marriage bond was worn and broken through, is clearly indicated by the advertisements which absolutely crowd the public journals, from the accession of the house of Brunswick up to the time of the third George, of husbands warning the public not to trust their runaway wives.” It must not be imagined, though, that wives were the only sinners, or that vice was confined to any particular and exclusive class. It was the luxury of all, and according to their opportunities all enjoyed it.

About this time Fleet marriages, and the scandals consequent upon them, were in full swing. In a number of the Weekly Journal this statement is made: “From an inspection into the several registers for marriages kept at the several alehouses, brandy-shops, &c., within the Rules of the Fleet Prison, we find no less than thirty-two couples joined together from Monday to Thursday last without licences, contrary to an express Act of Parliament against clandestine marriages, that lays a severe fine of £200 on the minister so offending, and £100 each on the persons so married in contradiction to the said statute. Several of the above-named brandy-men and victuallers keep clergymen in their houses at 20s. per week, hit or miss; but it is reported that one there will stoop to no such low conditions, but makes at least £500 per annum of Divinity jobs after that manner.” A fair specimen of the kind of advertisement published by these gentlemen is this:—

A curious phase of the dangers of the streets is found in a narrative published in the Grub Street Journal of 1735, which is well worth reproducing: “Since midsummer last a young lady of birth and fortune was deluded and forced from her friends, and by the assistance of a wrynecked swearing parson, married to an atheistical wretch, whose life is a continued practice of all manner of vice and debauchery. And since the ruin of my relative, another lady of my acquaintance had like to have been trepanned in the following manner: This lady had appointed to meet a gentlewoman at the Old Playhouse in Drury Lane, but extraordinary business prevented her coming. Being alone when the play was done, she bade a boy call a coach for the city. One dressed like a gentleman helps her into it, and jumps in after her. ‘Madam,’ says he, ‘this coach was called for me, and since the weather is so bad, and there is no other, I beg leave to bear you company; I am going into the City, and will set you down wherever you please.’ The lady begged to be excused, but he bade the coachman drive on. Being come to Ludgate Hill, he told her his sister, who waited his coming but five doors up the court, would go with her in two minutes. He went, and returned with his pretended sister, who asked her to step in one minute, and she would wait upon her in the coach. The poor lady foolishly followed her into the house, when instantly the sister vanished, and a tawny fellow in a black coat and a black wig appeared. ‘Madam, you are come in good time, the doctor was just agoing!’ ‘The doctor!’ says she, terribly frighted, fearing it was a madhouse; ‘what has the doctor to do with me?’ ‘To marry you to that gentleman. The doctor has waited for you these three hours, and will be paid by you or that gentleman before you go!’ ‘That gentleman,’ says she, recovering herself, ‘is worthy a better fortune than mine;’ and begged hard to be gone. But Doctor Wryneck swore she should be married; or if she would not he would still have his fee, and register the marriage for that night. The lady finding she could not escape without money or a pledge, told them she liked the gentleman so well she would certainly meet him to-morrow night, and gave them a ring as a pledge, ‘which,’ says she, ‘was my mother’s gift on her deathbed, enjoining that, if ever I married, it should be my wedding ring;’ by which cunning contrivance she was delivered from the black doctor and his tawny crew.” Pennant, in his “Some Account of London,” says: “In walking along the street in my youth, on the side next the prison, I have often been tempted by the question, ‘Sir, will you be pleased to walk in and be married?’ Along this most lawless space was hung up the frequent sign of a male and female hand enjoined, with ‘Marriages performed within’ written beneath. A dirty fellow invited you in. The parson was seen walking before his shop; a squalid, profligate figure, clad in a tattered plaid nightgown, with a fiery face, and ready to couple you for a dram of gin or a roll of tobacco.” Some of the notes found in the registers purchased by Government in 1821, and deposited with the Registrar of the Consistory Court of London, are very amusing. Here are one or two extracts: “June 10, 1729. John Nelson, of ye parish of St George, Hanover, batchelor and gardener, and Mary Barnes, of ye same, sp. married. Cer. dated 5 November 1727, to please their parents.” “1742, May 24.—A soldier brought a barber to the Cock, who I think said his name was James, barber by trade, was in part married to Elizabeth: they said they were married enough.” “A coachman came, and was half married, and would give but 3s. 6d., and went off.” “Edward —— and Elizabeth —— were married, and would not let me know their names.” A popular error was current at this time, that if a newly-married woman ran across the street with nothing on but her shift, she would free her husband from all liability as to her debts. More than once the following, or words akin to it, is found: “The woman ran across Ludgate Hill in her shift.” Riotous persons often terrified these parsons, such memoranda as the following occurring now and again: “Had a noise for four hours about the money.” “Married at a barber’s shop one Kerrils, for half a guinea, after which it was extorted out of my pocket, and for fear of my life delivered.” “Harrowson swore most bitterly, and was pleased to say that he was fully determined to kill the minister that married him. He came from Gravesend, and was sober.” And so on through infinite variety. But to return to our advertisements.

Though advertisements were by no means scarce about this time, the imposition of the duty still told heavily with regard to the regular business community, for in regular trade few things were advertised with the exception of books and quack medicines, all other commercial matters being disposed of by means of agents who advertised in a general manner, of which the following, from the London Journal of February 7, 1730, is a fair specimen:—

The next advertisement which offers itself for special notice is of a somewhat ludicrous character, and shows into what straits a man may get by means of a highly-developed imagination and an indiscreet tongue. It runs thus:—

To this curious confession, which was evidently extorted from the imaginative but timid Joseph, four witnesses appended their names. The next gentleman to whom our attention is directed was still more unfortunate than Mr Robins, for he received punishment without having committed any particular offence. He, however, seems to have been made of very different mettle from the Bristol man, for he is anxious to try his chances on better terms with those who assaulted him. The advertisement is from the Daily Post of January 22, 1739-40:—

A. Z. must have been possessed of a considerable amount of faith if he believed that the rufflers who set upon him unawares would consent either to expose themselves, or to give what he and others called, in a thoughtless manner, “the satisfaction of a gentleman.” It must have been rare satisfaction at any time to be run through the body or shot through the head, after having been insulted or injured. In the London Daily Post and General Advertiser, shortly after this (February 5, 1739-40), is an advertisement which looks suspiciously like a hoax, unless, indeed, it was believed at the time that one swallow would make a summer. As the advertiser was probably devoted to the agricultural interest, this is a not unlikely solution of the problem, more especially as a caged bird would naturally not be expected to possess the desired power:—

There must have been much capturing of small birds, and many may have been roasted alive in attempts to preserve them for the benefit of Thomas Meysey. It certainly does appear as if about this time humour was so rife that it had to find vent in all sorts of strange advertisements, and the quacks were not slow to follow the lead thus set, as is shown by the exercising swindle which follows, and which certainly must have exercised the minds of many who read it at the time. It appears in the same paper as the foregoing, on March 7, 1739-40. (It is almost time by March to know what year one is in.)

Mr Marsh may have been clever at making horses for chamber use, but he doesn’t seem to have understood argument much; for whatever pleasure there may be in bolting oneself on to a board, and then standing on one’s head, it isn’t much in the way of exercise, even though Fuller may have been at the bottom of it. We beg his pardon on it. Still, the idea is ingenious, and in a population, the majority of which, we are informed, consists mainly of fools, would succeed now. From this same London Daily Post and General Advertiser, which is full of strange and startling announcements, we take another advertisement, that is likely to arouse the attention and excite the envy of all who nowadays suffer from those dwellers in tents and other forms of bedsteads, the “mahogany flats” or Norfolk Howards, who are particularly rapacious in lodgings which are let after a long term of vacancy. This knowledge is the result of actual experience. The date is March 15, 1740:—

Bugs are said to have been very little if at all known in the days of our ancestors. It is indeed affirmed in that valuable addition to zoology, Southall’s “Treatise of Bugs” (London, 1730, 8vo), referred to in the advertisement just quoted, that this insect was scarcely known in England before the year 1670, when it was imported among the timber used in rebuilding the city of London after the fire of 1666. That it was, however, known much earlier is not to be doubted, though probably it was far less common than at present, since Dr Thomas Muffet, in the “Theatrum Insectorum,” informs us that Dr Penny, one of the early compilers of that history of insects, relates his having been sent for in great haste to Mortlake in Surrey, to visit two noble ladies who imagined themselves seized with symptoms of the plague; but on Penny’s demonstrating to them the true cause of their complaint—viz., having been bitten by those insects, and even detecting them in their presence—the whole affair was turned into a jest. This was in the year 1583. It is a somewhat remarkable fact, well known to those whose misfortunes subject them to contiguity with these highly-scented bloodsuckers, that within the past few years bugs have altered considerably. The old, nearly round-bellied, and possibly jovial fellow, has given way to a long dangerous creature who is known to experts as the “omnibus bug,” not so much on account of his impartiality as because of his shape. It is believed by some that this change is the result of bugs being discontented with their position, and their natural (and laudable) attempt to become something else in accordance with scientific theory; but we fancy that the true reason of this change is that foreign bugs have been imported in large numbers among cargoes, and not infrequently about passengers, and that the original settlers are being gradually exterminated in a manner similar to that which led to the extirpation of the black rat in this country. There is yet another theory with regard to the change which it would be unfair to pass over. It is that the bugs have altered—it is admitted on all sides that the alteration first exhibited itself at the East End of London—in consequence of feeding on mixed and barbarous races about Ratcliffe Highway and other dock purlieus. Any one who pays his money for this book is at liberty to take his choice of hypotheses, but we can assure him that the change is undoubtedly matter of fact.

The next specimen taken is of a literary turn, and appears in the Champion, or the Evening Advertiser, of January 2, 1741. From it we may judge of the number of burlesques and travesties which, some large, some small, were called into existence by the publication of what many consider to be Richardson’s masterpiece. Whatever rank “Pamela” may hold as compared with “Clarissa Harlowe,” “Sir Charles Grandison,” and other works by the same author, it is very little regarded now, while one of the books to which it gave rise is now a representative work of English literature. Here is the literary advertisement of the day:—