One matter in connection with the publication of the
Town Crier may be mentioned as being curious,
and perhaps a little surprising. It is this:
that during the many years that the paper was conducted
by its original promoters it steered clear of libel
actions. In only one case was an action even
threatened, and this was disposed of by an accepted
little explanation and apology. We often used
to hear rumours that Alderman, Councillor, or Mr.
Somebody intended wreaking vengeance upon writers
who had belaboured or ridiculed him; but these threats
ended in nothing, and the first proprietors of the
Town Crier never had to pay even a farthing
damages as the result of law proceedings. This
is something to record, because papers of a satirical
character necessarily sail pretty close to the wind
in the way of provoking touchy people to fly to law
to soothe their wounded feelings and pay out their
supposed persecutors.
I confess I often used to shiver slightly in my shoes
when I considered the possible consequences of what
I myself and others had written in the Town Crier.
The law of libel is a wide-spreading net, anything
that brings a man into ridicule or contempt or damages
him in his trade or profession being libellous.
To criticize adversely a painter, actor, or singer
is necessarily damaging, and is really a libel, but
to sustain an action real damage must be proved, or
it must be shown that malice and ill-will have prompted
the objectionable adverse opinions. But, as we
know, there are certain pettifogging men of law who
are ever ready to encourage people to bring actions
for libel for the mere sake of getting damages.
I believe I have thus stated the case correctly, but
I am not a “limb of the law,” not even
an amputated limb, or a law student. I speak
from what I have seen in the Libel Acts and in the
judgments I have read. Having been one of the
Press gang for many years, I have never thought my
liberties quite safe, and have often felt that any
day I might be brought up to the bar for judgment.
But I escaped, even when I was writing for the Town
Crier, and have escaped since. But let me
not boast. Before these lines are read my ordinary
clothes may be required of me.
On the shelves of my small library are some bound
volumes of the early numbers of the Birmingham
Town Crier, in which are some pencil marks.
If I should sooner or later have to retire to live
en pension at Winson Green, or at the Bromsgrove
or other Union, I hope to be able to take these cherished
books with me to look at from time to time, and to
keep green my memory of past pleasant days.
