"Must necessarily bear the stamp of the times"
The word 'magazine' comes to English from Arabic via
Italian and French words meaning warehouse or, more specifically, a place to
store munitions.
In the hands of businessman Edward Cave a magazine was an
explosive concept. He first published "Gentleman's Magazine" in
January 1731, making it the world's first such publication.
He explained to readers that his invention was "a
Monthly Collection, to treasure up, as in a Magazine, the most remarkable
Pieces on the Subjects above-mentioned, or at least impartial Abridgements
thereof."
Besides being its publisher, Cave was also its editor. He pushed his pen under the name Sylvanus
Urban, reflecting his intention that the magazine appeal to both well-heeled
city dwellers and rural lords and ladies.
"Our
Magazine," he wrote, "must necessarily bear the stamp of the times,
and the political, historical, and miscellaneous parts, dilate or contract in
proportion to the reigning taste."
It covered all aspects of daily
life—Parliamentary debates; reports on new inventions and medical treatments; natural
history; archaeology; poetry; literary essays; news from the American colonies;
agricultural prices; accounts of battles; sermons; lurid crime news; gossip; and
listings of birth, deaths, ecclesiastical promotions, and obituaries. In short,
it was an 18th century internet.
Here is a sampling of articles one might have found in the "Gentleman's Magazine":
* An account of Edward
Jenner's vaccinations against smallpox;
* An article
about advancements in cataract surgery. (Doctors were now using knives to
operate on eyes instead of scissors.);
* A
discussion of where swallows went in the winter;
* A
description of a balloon ride;
* Schematic
drawings of a 30-hour sand chronometer and a "Centrifugal Engine for
extracting water out of Ships";
* An
exquisite illustration of an armadillo accompanied with an article about the characteristics
of a specimen in Lord Southwell's possession: "This creature was brought
hither from the Mosquito shore, upon the American continent...It is fed with
raw beef and milk, and refuses our grain and fruits.";
* Tabloid tales such as this dreadful account: "A man at Farringdon Wash, near
Fairford, having procured a ferret to hunt rats, the creature, while the family
were busy, settled upon the cheek of an infant in the cradle, and could not be
got of till it was choaked. The poor little infant died of the agony."
* An essay
on "The capacity of Noah's Ark minutely considered." Its charts revealed where different beasts were housed;
* A design
for a submarine. Yale University's library subscribed to the magazine. Yale student David Bushnell saw this
1747 story. He then wrote
his master's thesis on a curious submersible contraption he called the Turtle. In September 1776, the
Continental Army used it to attack a British warship.
* Missionary work among Georgia's Chickasaw Indians by John Wesley. (He would
later found the Methodist Church.);
* A
description of a cure for nervous spasms using "Russian Castor," a
substance made from hairs plucked from the foreskins of Russian beavers. Presumably the beavers were dead when the plucking was done.;
The
magazine even published what might have been the world's first April Fools
story. It reported that a centaur had been born in England and would soon appear at
Charing Cross in London.
Cave's cornucopia of sublime insights and scandal made him wealthy. His
magazine became the most influential publication in Georgian-era
England. It had, for its time, a massive circulation—more than 10,000 copies. (Remarkably long lived, it ceased publication in 1922.)
Cave wasn't afraid of a fight. Before starting the "Gentleman's
Magazine," he published a newsletter
while working as a postal clerk. Some accused him of opening people's mail to
obtain news. Nothing could be proven.
His business plan beat Reader's Digest by more than a century. His magazine "contain[ed] the
essays and intelligence which appeared in the two hundred half sheets which the
London press then threw off monthly." In other words, some of its contents would be abridged. In many cases, he reprinted others' work with no alternations.
Other publishers were furious that this scoundrel would profit from their sweat. They filed lawsuits. Cave responded that
it is "better that the proprietors should suffer some damage, than the
acquisition of knowledge should be obstructed with unnecessary difficulties."
In today's parlance, he would have said, "Information wants to be
free."
A Nice
Game of Shuttlecock
Cave was a big man, and not just because he was a media titan. He
stood more than six-feet tall and was heavy set. He had his peculiarities—He only
drank milk and water. For four years he was a vegetarian. He liked a nice game
of shuttlecock. Like the fictional Perry White of Superman's Daily Planet newspaper, he was mean-spirited and pompous or so said his detractors.
He lived and breathed his magazine. His
long-time reporter Samuel Johnson said Cave "never looked out of
the window but with a view to the Gentleman's Magazine." Perhaps partly thanks to Cave's tutelage, Johnson become one England's renowned writers and the creator of the greatest
dictionary the world had seen. Cave gave him his first job in publishing. One of Johnson's biographers said Cave gave his cub reporter Johnson assignments that were
"almost unparalleled in range and variety."
One of Cave's great innovations involved reporting
on Parliamentary debates. No one had ever done this before. Why? It was illegal. No matter—He sent friends and Johnson to sit in the
galleries of the House of Commons.
He then ran
accounts of speeches and MPs sarcastic remarks. Soon MPs gave Cave transcripts of their speeches, possibly marking the first time
politicians leaked flattering information to the press.
Ultimately, the magazine's reporting infuriated the House. Cave refused
to back down. He continued publishing its debates, but with a twist. Now
he ran them under the heading "Debates in the Senate of Lilliput." He
attributed speeches to Liliputian leaders whose
fanciful names readers would have easily deciphered. Readers were most amused,
and the magazine's renown and circulation rose.
Cave's most
scandalous moment came in 1738. He dared to publish remarks King George II
had sent to Parliament. The problem was he ran them before MPs heard them. The House of Commons denounced Cave, passing a resolution advising him of
its "high indignation."
An even more chilling
moment came when Cave dared run articles about the trial of Simon
Fraser who had conspired to return England to Roman Catholic rule.
Convicted of treason, he was the last man to be beheaded in England. As a
result of his magazine's reporting, Cave not only paid a fine but had to beg forgiveness on his knees.
Scholars say Cave's magazine was
remarkably fair in its coverage of controversial events. After all, Cave wanted as
many cash-paying readers as he could get, and experience had taught him to be
wary of upsetting the powers that be, except when covering juicy treason trials
and tidbits from the King.
His
coverage of the colonies (and their grievances) was thorough and sympathetic.
For this, Americans may thank Cave's fellow publisher Ben Franklin. They
were friends, and in 1741 Franklin started his own magazine 'The General
Magazine and Historical Chronicle,' though it only lasted for six monthly
issues.
Cave reported on Franklin's experiments with lightning rods and published his pamphlet "Experiments and Observations in Electricity."
He put a lightning road on top of his London office building, a fitting place for such a courageous publication. And when lightning struck it, sure enough Cave published an article about it.
