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Brass Crosby and the Freedom of the Press

One evening in February 1905, in the hall of Stockton’s Literary and Philosophical Society in Dovecot Street, a barbershop owner named Joseph Parrott told a packed room the story of Brass Crosby, a Mayor of London who had been born in Stockton.

Brass Crosby, London Lord Mayor in 1771, was born in Stockton-on-Tees. Image courtesy of Preston Park Museum.

Joseph Parrott loved to learn, and to share his knowledge. When he was not working from his hairdressers shop on Stockton High Street, he was travelling across the country to archives and libraries researching for lectures that he held in the North East. In the early 1900s he penned his ‘Stockton Boys’ lecture, telling the stories of famous men from Stockton.

In February 1905 he presented his lecture to a crowd of researchers in Stockton’s Literary and Philosophical Society (sometimes shortened to ‘Lit and Phil’). Of all the men he spoke of that night, he focussed on one in particular – Brass Crosby.

Joseph Parrott’s handwritten lecture, ‘Stockton Boys’. Image courtesy of Preston Park Museum.

Brass Crosby’s Early Life

Brass Crosby had been born in Stockton on 8th May 1725, the son of Hercules and Mary Crosby. Parrott referred to Hercules as a “respectable burgess”, meaning that he probably worked as a representative for Stockton’s local government, which was only small and called an Ancient Borough – Stockton would not become a Municipal Council until 1835. His mother’s maiden name had been Brass, hence his unusual first name.

Brought up within the sphere of his father’s political work, it seems natural that Brass also aspired to work in politics. But his scope for politics was far bigger than his riverside hometown allowed him – after training in Sunderland as an attorney, he travelled down to London and was elected to be a Sheriff in 1764. Within the next six years he rose up the ranks and became Lord Mayor of London.

An engraving of Stockton High Street as it would have looked in the Georgian Period (1714 – 1837). Image courtesy of Preston Park Museum.

Crosby’s Government Work

The British Government in the Georgian period (1714 – 1837) was made up of two major parties – The Tories and The Whigs. The Tory Party believed in the monarchy’s right to rule the country, as well as keeping Britain to the doctrine of the Church of England. The Whig Party were more in favour of Parliament having a say in how the country was run, freedom of religious belief and practice, and believed that individual people should have rights to say who was elected to Parliament.

At this time, only upper classes and wealthy elites had the right to vote but the country was fast developing, and reform of government and voting was needed in order to catch up.

The country was still abiding by old laws from the Middle Ages which gave the vote to towns and villages that were only populated by less than 100 people each. This included ‘Rotten Boroughs’, constituencies that had almost been completely abandoned but still allowed to vote for a member of parliament to represent them. At the same time, the vote was not extended to large industrial cities like Birmingham and Manchester which had grown rapidly over the past decades.

Crosby and many of his forward-thinking colleagues were in support of parliamentary reform, but in the face of more traditionally minded members and King George III tightly holding the power, reform seemed very unlikely in the 1770s. Crosby vowed to use his power to speak for the people, and his first challenge came when he became Lord Mayor of London.

The Press Gangs

Being a part of the government of London, and England as a whole, came with many duties and responsibilities – keeping the peace, collecting taxes and ensuring that there was a supply of men ready to support the country and the King in war times.

In 1770 a crisis rose between Britain and Spain over control of the Falkland Isles. It seemed likely that they were about to go to war and started growing their navies.

For British citizens, this meant Impressment – the Royal Navy sent groups, or ‘Press Gangs’ as they were called, to forcibly enlist merchant sailors and other seamen into the navy. Joseph Parrott made it clear to Stockton’s Lit and Phil society just how feared the press gangs were –

Crosby was aware of just how important the navy was, but at the same time wanted to give people the choice to refuse or accept service into the navy. Just a few days into his position as Lord Mayor, he refused to allow the use of warrants that the press gangs used to forcibly enlist people.

Instead, Crosby took advantage of the City Bounty – merchant sailors and seamen were offered paid incentives, and around 1,000 men signed up for the navy in the next two months, and more importantly they wanted to fight for their country and were not forced to. Crosby went a step further and stationed constables around the city to prevent rebel press gangs from taking people.

In the end, war was averted and both Britain and Spain started diplomatic negotiations. But Crosby had kept to his word in a difficult time. A few months later his most infamous fight for rights came, and with it came great risk to himself.

The Freedom of the Press

For many years it had been risky for parliamentary debates to be published in any form – the government threatened harsh punishment on anyone who did this, including imprisonment in overcrowded jails, the death penalty, or exile to the colonies. Journalists still published debates while using their creativity to heavily disguise them, calling them ‘Debates from the Great Senate of Lilliput’ and calling members of government by different names, often the names of Roman Emperors.

On the 12th March 1771 at London’s Royal Exchange a warrant was read out for the arrest of John Wheble, who worked for the Middlesex Journal. Just days before the newspaper had done something unprecedented and published a debate in full, including the names of MPs. King George III went further and issued a £50 reward for his capture (which would have been over £4,000 in today’s money).

Just a few days later on the 15th Wheble had been apprehended by one of his own employees. He was brought to Mansion House, a grand, Palladian-style hall built specifically for charging citizens for their crimes. He stood before the Alderman of London, John Wilkes, about to be charged.

Wheble however was not punished in the slightest – he was let go, while his ‘apprehender’ was given the reward for his arrest.

As it turned out, Wilkes was a Radical who also believed in the Freedom of the Press and had instructed Wheble to publish the debate in full, be ‘arrested’ by one of his employees, and he would then use his judicial powers to make sure they both walked away.

Crosby and Wilkes shared the same interests, and although the risks were great in standing up for the people, they were prepared to take them – Wilkes had been imprisoned a couple of years ago when he published criticisms about the King in his own newspaper.

Later that day, Crosby joined Wilkes in the magistrates stand as a man named William Witham was brought before them. Witham had been sent from the House of Commons to arrest another journalist, named John Miller, who had published a parliamentary debate in full. When he had tried to apprehend the journalist, Miller had shouted to anyone witnessing that he was being assaulted, following in Witham’s arrest.

To Crosby, Witham had not been issued an arrest warrant for detaining Miller and as a result had committed false imprisonment. He was about to charge Witham, when all of a sudden, a Sergeant of the British Army burst in. He had been sent by the House of Commons and demanded that Witham be released and that the arrest of Miller go ahead. Crosby made a stand against the Sergeant and refused his demands, claiming that the English people had a right to know how the laws governing them were being discussed.

His claims caused a hubbub in government – its authority had been challenged and word quickly spread. The prime minister, Lord Frederick North, received a letter from the King demanding that Crosby and Wilkes be imprisoned in The Tower of London, and they were both summoned to the House of Commons on the 19th March.

While Wilkes made his excuses that he could not attend, Crosby made his way to the House, despite being in great pain from gout. He and his supporters were all too aware of what would most likely happen, but he nonetheless answered parliament’s summons.

When ordered by the government to speak, he rose and gave a speech about the duties he had sworn to –

No matter what Crosby’s reasons may have been, North and his government decided to punish him. It was a week later on the 27th when he was once again summoned to Parliament. A crowd of people had gathered outside the Mansion House to accompany Crosby on his way, shouting support and thanks for his standing up for them.

At first, since he was still in so much pain, they tried to sentence him with a lesser punishment, but Crosby was insistent that Parliament stick to their original punishment for him –

As Crosby was taken to the Tower by Lord North, the crowd of his supporters turned violent and protested. After pelting the prime minister’s carriage with mud, they pulled him from the carriage and surrounded him. Crosby shouted to his supporters to stop, that he had chosen to go to the Tower and Lord North was still a colleague he trusted. The crowd quietened and Crosby was taken to the Tower without any more disturbances, although a few days later they went on to burn effigies of Lord North and those who had demanded for Crosby to be imprisoned.

Crosby continued to work during his imprisonment – citizens sentenced for crimes were brought before him, he had political colleagues visit him to discuss work, and on a couple of occasions he was taken by carriage to the House of Commons to rule on certain issues and then sent back to the Tower.

After six weeks Crosby was freed to great praise and admiration. The Honourable Artillery Company fired 21 cannons upon his release, and vast crowds that had gathered to see him celebrated. Throughout his imprisonment towns including Newcastle, Bedford, Stratford and Honiton sent letters of gratitude. Even his own government presented him with a silver plate in January 1772 when his term as Lord Mayor ended.

Conclusion

Members of Parliament like Brass Crosby recognised the great responsibility in speaking for those who had no rights.

Parliamentary reform and the extension of the vote would come, but not until the 1830s, and even then it would not go far enough for many. But the population of England had demanded a say in Government, and the wheels of change had begun to turn.