Название: Consuming Passions: Leisure and Pleasure in Victorian Britain
Автор: Judith Flanders
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn: 9780007347629
isbn:
The Town, which started in 1837, was similar, but it was unstamped, and therefore cost only 2d., instead of the 6d. that those newspapers which paid tax were forced to charge. Being unstamped, it could not legally carry any news, including any references to politics. But even without news its low price brought it a readership at the bottom end of the middle classes, as can be seen from the large proportion of articles promoting a reduction in working hours, or its several series on different types of workplace, which discussed particularly the head clerks aiming itself at a readership of junior clerks with ambitions. It also published numerous accounts of ‘Sketches of courtezans’, ‘Brothels and Brothelkeepers’, ‘Cigar shops and pretty women’, and articles on ‘free and easies’ (the precursors to music hall; see pp. 372-4), as well as carrying advertisements for books with titles like Venus’s Album, or, Rosebuds of Love, which sounds like pornography, but was advertised as a collection of ‘the best double-entendre, flash, and comic songs’.60
For a couple of decades early in the nineteenth century there was a demand for newspapers that were more concerned with gossip and scandal: John Bull (1820), Paul Pry (1830/31), the Satirist (1831) and the New Satirist (1841), and the Crim.-Con. Gazette (1840).* Some of these had started off as political journals: John Bull was Tory, the Satirist an interesting mix of anti-Chartist, anti-abolition, pro-parliamentaryreform, pro-O’Connell views. But ultimately they were - or became - little more than organs of vituperation, as with John Bull’s abuse of that ‘elderly smug Cockney, William Hazlitt, alias Bill Pimple, alias the Great Shabberon [a mean, shabby person]…an old weather-beaten, pimplesnouted gin-smelling man, like a Pimlico tailor, with ink-dyed hands, a corrugated forehead, and a spiritous nose’. The Satirist and the Age were even worse - they had swiftly degenerated into blackmail sheets: ‘If a Reader of the Satirist will furnish us with evidence of the “publication” on the part of the “Gin-and-water Curate residing in the neighbourhood of Dorset-square”, we will make the reverend tipler [sic] repeat it.’ The paper then either received information from disgruntled or vindictive readers, for which it (sometimes) paid, or the person written about got in touch with the editor, and a pay-off guaranteed the rapid insertion of a paragraph countering the original claims.62
By the 1840s these frankly vicious papers had more or less run their course, and had either closed or turned respectable. Instead Reynolds’s, Lloyd’s and the News of the World took over their readerships. There were also, from the 1840s, new penny papers for unskilled workers: the Penny Times, which appears, from its pictures, to have expected an audience who read only with difficulty, and centred around episodes of murder, abduction, rape and other violent crimes, and Bell’s Penny Dispatch, and Sporting and Police Gazette, and Newspaper of Romance, and Penny Sunday Chronicle (all one title), which had ‘thrilling tales’ every week. These tales took off, and as politics - particularly radical politics - became less of a selling point on the collapse of the Chartist movement, more and more papers joined in: Clark’s Weekly Dispatch ran ‘A Ghost Story’ in 1841, Bell’s began a serial ‘The Green Man’ in 1842, and in 1843 Lloyd’s Penny Sunday Times and People’s Police Gazette had ‘The Waltz of Death’ by C. G. Ainsworth, with a gory illustration on the front page.*63 (This paper was made up entirely of fiction and police reports, so it didn’t need to be stamped - hence its 1d. price, compared to the 7d. charged by the Sunday Times.) The journalist Henry Vizetelly, looking back at the end of the century, remembered these ‘lengthy and exciting stories, telling how rich and poor babies were wickedly changed in their perambulators by conniving nursemaids, how long-lost wills miraculously turned up in the nick of time’. The characters were always of a type: ‘The villains were generally of high birth and repulsive presence; the lowly personages were always of ravishing beauty and unsullied virtue. Innocence and loveliness in a gingham gown were perpetually pursued by vice and debauchery in varnished boots and spotless gloves. Life was surrounded by mystery; detectives were ever on the watch, and the most astonishing pitfalls and mantraps were concealed in the path of the unwary and of the innocent.’64 These tales all had illustrations in keeping with the Gothic sensibilities of their stories. The British Quarterly Review in 1859 warned its readers that
with few exceptions…[such stories were] of a violent or sinister character. There is usually either a ‘deed of blood’ going forward, or preparations for it. If there be not a dishevelled villain in a slouch hat shooting a fair gentleman in lace and tassels, or a brawny savage dragging an unprotected female into a cavern by the hair of her head, we may reckon at least upon a man in a cloak watching from behind a rock, or a ‘situation’ of thrilling interest, in which the figures look as if they had been taken in a spasm, and were suddenly petrified.65
This type of fiction was to prove lucrative for newspapers in general, and for William Frederic Tillotson in particular. He was the proprietor of the Bolton Evening News, which he established in 1867. Soon he also owned the Bolton Journal and Guardian, and then local editions of this paper (renamed the Bolton Weekly Journal), which served a number of towns in Lancashire. СКАЧАТЬ