A Challenge to the Editor, Part 3

From this point, the story takes on the characteristics of a comic opera. It is now the evening of Saturday 17 November, and Taylor is again visited by Gibson. According to Taylor, the dialogue proceeds as follows:

Taylor: 'If you have any letter from Mr. Crossley, I am ready to receive it.'

Gibson: 'I have not one to give you, but I have one to read to you.'

Taylor's account continues:

He was then invited into the house, but, finding he had not his glasses with him, he put the letter into the hands of Mr.Taylor, saying 'I believe I must allow you to read it yourself, but you must restore it to me.' ⁷

Gibson feared that, if Taylor had possession of the letter, he might apply to the magistrates for protection against Crossley, for the message that Gibson eventually handed over was nothing less than 'a polite invitation from Mr. Crossley to fight a duel'. After a demand for an apology, Crossley invokes the notion of an ancient code of conduct:

I am sure you do not wish to exempt yourself from the laws which regulate the reparation of injuries amongst gentlemen, that you will name a friend who may arrange with the bearer, on my part, the time and circumstances of a meeting between us with as little delay as possible. ⁸

 

Taylor exempted himself from such laws with great speed, and declined the invitation, pleading that he was a family man and had recently taken out life insurance. He did, however, write out a reply, in Gibson's presence, which went some way towards making the apology sought by Crossley. In a careful statement, bristling with caveats, Taylor pointed out that his remark 'worthy of a disreputable lawyer' was not the same as accusing the writer of being a disreputable lawyer, and that:

Even supposing for a minute that Mr. Crossley was the person he had alluded to, he had no hesitation in saying that he did not consider Mr. Crossley a disreputable lawyer, and had never heard of any disreputable practice on his part. ⁹

 

The correspondence was also printed in the Courier on the same date as it appeared in the Guardian (Saturday 24 November), at the express request of Crossley. Assuming the mantle of the victor, Crossley adopted a high moral tone in his reply, which was copied to Taylor, but only partly reprinted in the Guardian. After requesting that the editor(s) insert the series of letters on the specified date, he continues:

Little interesting to the public at large as may be the circumstances of private disputes, yet to every man the vindication of his own character is important ...To the documents thus placed before the public, I deem it unnecessary to add any further comments of my own; nor shall I now or hereafter bestow the slightest further attention upon the individual to who they refer ... who, refusing either an acknowledgement with an adequate apology or a disclaimer, has not the manhood to justify the course he has adopted by conforming to the only remaining request which can be tendered to him by an honourable man, is surely unworthy of any further notice, as he has forfeited every title to be considered as a respectable editor or a gentleman. ¹⁰

 

This passage appeared only in the Courier, while the concluding sentence was printed in both newspapers: ‘It only remains for me to state in the most distinct and unequivocal terms that I never wrote one word of the articles in the Manchester Chronicle.’ ¹¹

 

A Challenge to the Editor, Part 2

It was clear that Taylor suspected that the article had been written by Crossley, who in turn evidently felt that this was the latest in a series of attacks on him in the Guardian. On the same day the article was published (14 November 1838), a letter from Crossley was delivered to Taylor by Captain William Gibson. Crossley refers particularly to the phrase 'worthy of a disreputable lawyer' and quotes from an earlier article which contains a description of ‘a certain lawyer’, before putting the fundamental question of identification to Taylor. He begins:

someone... who in the Guardian of Wednesday the 31st ult. is described as ‘one connected in no enviable way with the far more important frauds and falsehoods by which it was attempted to bolster up the case of the enemies of incorporation.’ [Crossley goes on …] Viewing these passages ... with the further knowledge that no-one in the profession of the law has been so extensively engaged in the opposition to the charter of incorporation as myself, I consider that I am entitled to inquire from you, as the editor of the Guardian, whether the terms scored under were made use of with any personal reference or application to myself. I trust you are too much a man of honour to insinuate, by innuendo, what you are unwilling to acknowledge or explain. I beg to request an immediate answer. ³

 

The following day, Taylor sent a letter listing three articles which had appeared in the Chronicle in the preceding three weeks, and asking whether or not Crossley was the author of any or all of them, or whether he had any connection with their authorship. Taylor continues as follows, repeating Crossley's emphasis upon honour:

These are questions to which I consider myself clearly entitled to expect full and specific answers, before I make any reply to the inquiry you have made to me ... I trust you are too much a man of honour to write calumnious and offensive articles in newspapers under the idea that, by assuming an anonymous guise, you will be able to divest yourself of that moral responsibility to public opinion, to which I, in common with every other avowed editor of such a periodical, am unavoidably subject. ⁴

 

The reply to this was delivered on 16 November, by Thomas Flintoff, a close friend of Crossley's. The substance was that Crossley objected to Taylor's answering inquiries with questions, and asserted that Taylor should have made some attempt to discover the authorship of the contentious pieces before publishing his Guardian article. Had Taylor made such an inquiry prior to publication, it 'would have found a prompt and explicit reply.' ⁵

 

Taylor responded that same evening, sending his letter to Flintoff, saying:

I adhere to the opinion expressed in my former letter... that your reply to the questions I have put to you ought to be an indispensable preliminary to my reply to the inquiry you have addressed to me. ⁶

Taylor goes on to put the hypothetical case that, if Crossley were not the writer of the offending article, then Taylor would provide not only an explanation, but also an apology. Clearly, events had reached a deadlock with neither of the protagonists willing to take the lead in providing the information that might have eased the situation.

 

A Challenge to the Editor, Part 1

The Manchester Guardian, 1838:

Manchester was the scene of great constitutional change during the 1830s. The Municipal Corporations Act of 1835 allowed householders to petition the monarch for a charter of incorporation to be granted, which would enable them to appoint their own local government administration. Incorporation presented for the first time the possibility that administrative power might be removed from those who felt they had the right to it by virtue of property, position and tradition, and given to elected representatives. Manchester Tories were vehemently opposed to this proposal and any suggestion of reform. Their morale was low at this time, following repeated defeats at the polls, but the move in 1838 to incorporate the borough provided a rallying point and a cause to unify the ailing party.

 

James Crossley was a prominent solicitor, with literary and antiquarian interests, who is probably best remembered for his part in forming the Chetham Society. He was also active in the Conservative cause and towards the end of 1838, when the incorporation debate was at its height and tempers were running high on both sides, a dispute developed between Crossley and the editor of the Manchester Guardian, which culminated in a melodramatic challenge to a duel: A bizarre and anachronistic proposal in the first industrial city.

Among the local newspapers, the Manchester Guardian championed the cause of reform, while most others, including the Manchester Courier, under its proprietor Thomas Sowler (a friend of Crossley’s), and the Chronicle, took the opposite view. Since its inception, in 1821, the Manchester Guardian had reflected the personality and politics of its editor, John Edward Taylor, who was on the Liberal/Unitarian side of the schism which divided Manchester at the time (Crossley was of course a dyed-in-the-wool ‘Church and King’ Tory). Taylor had long interested himself in liberal politics, and had contributed articles to the Liberal-leaning Manchester Gazette since around 1812. He had also been accused of pamphleteering in anti-government causes. When, for example, the Royal Exchange was burned down during a riot protesting against Lord Sidmouth’s appointment as Home Secretary, Taylor was said to have been the author of a handbill ‘which was posted in the town and was held to have provoked the arson.’ In the course of vehemently denying this, he was accused of criminal libel, a charge of which he was acquitted by a jury under the foremanship of – appropriately enough – John Rylands. A little later, in 1819, Taylor again produced an influential pamphlet, this time to counterbalance Sidmouth’s anodyne account of the Peterloo massacre to government.  These early examples show something of the personality of the editor. He has been described as: ‘a small man of louring mien and a priggish temperament “moral indignation came easily to him and he could be infuriatingly patronising”’ ¹

 

 

 

 

 

 

James Crossley (Chetham’s Library) and John Edward Taylor (John Rylands Library).

A series of articles which appeared in Wheeler’s Manchester Chronicle were extremely critical of Taylor, and he published a trenchant reply in his editorial, accusing the 'amateur writer' of falsifying a charge of corruption against himself in the election of Commissioners of Police, and deliberately misquoting an article that had previously appeared in the Guardian. Without actually naming the author, Taylor continued:

These tricks, worthy only of a disreputable lawyer, disentitle the man who is guilty of them from being recognised by us as a controversialist upon whom we can bestow any further notice in the matter. ²

Recent Conference: ‘Comment is free, but facts are sacred’

‘Comment is free, but facts are sacred’:

The Guardian in Local, National, and Global History

 

Thursday 6 April 2017, The John Rylands Library,

 The University of Manchester

 

Keynote speaker: Alan Rusbridger, Principal of Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford, and former Editor-in-Chief of the Guardian.

 

The University of Manchester Library and the John Rylands Research Institute present a one-day interdisciplinary conference on the history of the Guardian newspaper.

 

Abstract of one of the papers to be read:

 

                                  A Challenge to the Editor

 

Manchester was the scene of great constitutional change during the 1830s. Following repeated defeats at the polls, Tory morale was low at this time, but the proposal in 1838 to incorporate the borough, under the Municipal Corporations Act of 1835, provided a rallying point and a cause to unify the ailing party in opposition to the plan. Incorporation presented for the first time the possibility that administrative power might be removed from those who felt they had the right to it by virtue of property, position and tradition, and given to elected representatives.

James Crossley, a prominent solicitor with literary and antiquarian interests, played an important part in defending the Tory viewpoint, and resisting any attempts to bring about reform. The Manchester Guardian championed the cause of incorporation, while the Manchester Courier and Wheeler's Manchester Chronicle took the opposite view. When the debate was at its height and tempers were running high on both sides, a dispute developed between Crossley and the founder and first editor of the Manchester Guardian, John Edward Taylor, who has been described as ‘a small man of louring mien and priggish temperament’. Taylor described Crossley, by implication, as a ‘disreputable lawyer … guilty not merely of wilful misrepresentation, but of actual falsehood’ which resulted in Crossley challenging Taylor to a duel. This paper will tell the story of the events leading up to this challenge, and examine its consequences.

Steve Collins

 

                                                     John Edward Taylor

The elusive Mr Mercier

A recent post on the Chetham Society Facebook was about a portrait of our friend Francis Raines. The painting was described as by 'an unknown artist'. The artist was almost certainly Charles Mercier (1834-1901), who has cropped up in my researches as having painted Crossley, and Canons Parkinson and Raines of the Chetham Society.  Mercier was a London-born portraitist who lived and worked in Manchester from the 1850s to around 1877, when he is thought to have died. He exhibited at the Royal Academy1863, and numbered among his more distinguished sitters Disraeli, Lord Napier and the king of Belgium. However the majority of his patrons were army officers (hence his use of the title 'Major') and worthy citizens of Manchester and Liverpool, including Chetham Society notables such as James Crossley and Canons Richard Parkinson and Francis Raines, in addition to a dramatic picture of the prison philanthropist Thomas Wright ministering to a convict, entitled 'The Condemned Cell' (see Transactions of the Lancashire and Cheshire Antiquarian Society, vol. 109, 2016).

My problem with Mr (also known as 'Major') Mercier concerns his portrait of James Crossley. Here's my account of this, from James Crossley: A Manchester Man of Letters (pp.193-5)

A portrait of Crossley was commissioned which, it was hoped, would hang in the Free Library, chosen as the most appropriate place in view of Crossley’s contribution to its formation. As treasurer of the subscription fund, Peel approached the Free Library Committee offering to present the portrait to that institution. The chosen artist was Charles Mercier, a London-born portraitist who lived and worked in Manchester, from the 1850s to around 1877, when he is thought to have died. He exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1863, and numbered among his more distinguished sitters Disraeli, Lord Napier and the king of Belgium.  However, the majority of his patrons were army officers (he is sometimes titled Major Charles Mercier) and worthy citizens of Manchester and Liverpool, including two of Crossley’s closest friends and members of the Chetham Society council. After Crossley’s portrait was painted, Parkinson expressed an interest, and in June 1857, Raines reported that Mercier was to visit St. Bee’s to preserve the reverend gentleman’s image in oils. Exactly two years later, Raines was himself approached by the artist, with Crossley’s approval, as he wrote to Raines: ‘I hope you have acceded to Mr. Mercier’s request. He seems so happy in his likenesses.’ The Raines portrait is now stored at Chetham’s Library, and that of Parkinson can be found at St. Bee’s College, Cumbria.

Mercier’s representation of Crossley received universal approbation, and was described in detail by the local press:

The portrait, which is of the proportions technically called “to the knees” represents Mr.Crossley standing by a table, on which are piles of books. His left hand rests on a book, the right is slightly raised, and he looks as if speaking. The portrait is an admirable and characteristic likeness, not only in features, but in expression; while the accessories are few, and the tone of the picture quiet. It is a very satisfactory work, and reflects great credit to the artist. 

The Free Library Committee immediately accepted Peel’s gift of the painting, and the Town Clerk, Joseph Heron, conveyed their gratification and thanks to the subscribers, promising to place the portrait in a prominent position in the Camp Field Library. Before its removal to the Free Library, the painting was placed on view at the Town Hall, where, at the next meeting of the Manchester Council, John Potter added his own words of approval and his acknowledgements of Crossley’s achievements. Moving the adoption of the Free Library Committee’s proposals, he is reported to have added that: ‘everyone connected with the Free Library felt deeply indebted to Mr.Crossley for his labours in favour of what was, and he [Potter] hoped ever would be, a useful and benevolent institution.’ The portrait was eventually hung over the main entrance to the Free Library, where it remained until the Camp Field site was vacated. Its subsequent whereabouts have not been fully documented, but there is evidence that the work was removed to the Central Library where it appeared on a 1941 inventory of the library’s possessions.

Since then, not a trace has been found of the portrait. There is a picture listed in the Manchester Central Library archive as Sir James Crossley (artist: Mercier). Here it is:

Apart from the obvious fact that this does not look like the Crossley we know and love from photographs and the Walker portrait, which hangs in Chetham's Library, this portrait does not seem to be in Mercier's style. Furthermore, it doesn't correspond with the description above, nor with the report of the Manchester Courier on 10 April 1858:

The pleasant expression of Mr. Crossley has been happily caught, and fixed on the canvas, and the accessories of books and writing materials on the table, by the side of which Mr. Crossley is represented as standing, are well introduced.

Books and writing materials? Standing? To the knees? Left hand resting on a book? Looks as if speaking? etc., etc., I don't think so. So the search goes on. My dream is that the portrait is in storage, or in one of the many 'committee rooms' in the Central Library, and that one day I will get to see it. 



 

Cobden's reply to Mrs Gaskell

My Dear Mrs Gaskell,
I hope you will not think me neglectful in not having before replied to your letter which you did me the honour to send me upon the subject of the painting of the 'Good Samaritan' – My first suggestion to Mrs Schwabe on reading your note was that to identify the picture with Mr Wright's philanthropic missions it ought to contain his portrait – This I suppose is not possible – Without this I do not see exactly how it can be identified with his proceedings in Manchester – Further let me add my candid doubts whether his character be sufficiently known and appreciated by the wealthy inhabitants of your city to ensure the purchase of a large historical picture to be placed as a tribute to his virtue in one of your public buildings … I will endeavour to accompany Mrs Schwabe at the beginning of the week to see the picture, and at all events will let you know through her my opinion of it, which after all is not worth much, as I am not a connoisseur – Again hoping you will excuse my delay in writing.

Believe me
ever faithfully yours
Rhd Cobden

This was written on the 9^th of February, 15 days after the Gaskell letter under discussion was dated, so if Cobden had let two weeks go by before answering in this era of prolific letter-writing, then his apologies for tardiness would have been perfectly in order, and his letter would fit the chronology of events exactly.  Unfortunately, Cobden does not offer a 'hearty feeling' as Mrs Gaskell hoped, but instead voices doubts and apprehensions regarding the reaction of the Manchester burghers who would be asked to underwrite the acquisition. The points he raises are practical and down-to-earth, appropriate to a man of action who likes to get things done. He is not interested in the allegorical portrayal of Wright as the Samaritan, but worries that the denizens of Manchester may not make the connection between the subject of the painting and its dedicatee, unless it were made plain with a recognizable portrayal of the philanthropist on the canvas. This, he assumes 'is not possible'.  Cobden also makes clear his fears that Wright's 'humble sphere of action' would not warrant recognition from the influential townspeople, leaving unfinished the well-worn biblical quotation 'a prophet is not without honour [save in his own country, and in his own house]'. Despite these misgivings, he agrees to view the painting with Mrs Schwabe, and it is interesting to speculate about the possibility that he evinced the same opinions to the artist as he did to the novelist. Watts was preoccupied with the subject throughout his life, and did indeed paint a version of the picture with Wright's portrait as the Samaritan, so it is possible that Cobden's suggestion may have kindled a creative spark in the painter's imagination.

The probable correspondent

If the letters in question were not sent to Crossley, then who was the intended receiver? One of the major targets in the author's sights was Richard Cobden, whom she expressed a wish to 'work up', as we saw in the letter to Tottie Fox. He qualifies in all the respects that Crossley does not, as the object of the unidentified package of letters. As a Liberal M.P., he would have had a London base and would have been familiar with the more influential sections of society. Charles Street, Berkeley Square is a short distance from Westminster, so it would have been quite convenient for Cobden to call in at Watts's studio to view the painting. His political credentials ensured that he was already on friendly terms with Salis Schwabe and would have been able to pass on the messages requested by the writer without any trouble. There is no surviving letter written by Mrs Gaskell to Cobden up to that point and previous letters mention only Mrs Cobden, so the tone of the opening and closing sentences of the letter under discussion, apologising for the 'liberty' taken in making contact with the reader, would be perfectly appropriate in the circumstances. It is therefore not unreasonable to suggest that Cobden would have been a much more likely correspondent than Crossley. This theory is strengthened by our knowledge that Mrs Gaskell did write to Cobden on the subject of the Watts painting, because his reply is preserved.

To be continued in the next post