Now! Then! John Wesley visits an unjustly bankrupted Yarm liquor smuggler in York Castle

3 July 1761: John Wesley visits an unjustly bankrupted Yarm liquor smuggler in York Castle

John Wesley. 1827. The Journal of the Rev. John Wesley, Vol. 3/4. London: J. Kershaw. Get it:

Excerpt

Some time since, a man who lived near Yarm, assisted others in running some brandy. His share was worth near four pounds. After he had wholly left off that bad work, and was following his own business, that of a weaver, he was arrested, and sent to York gaol. And, not long after, comes down a declaration that Jac. Wh— had landed a vessel laded with brandy and geneva at the port of London and sold them there, whereby he was indebted to his Majesty, £577, and upwards. And to tell this worthy story, the lawyer takes up thirteen or fourteen sheets of treble-stamped paper. O England, England! will this reproach never be rolled away from thee? Is there anything like this to be found, either among Papists, Turks, or heathens? In the name of truth, justice, mercy, and common sense, I ask, (1) Why do men lie, for lying sake? Is it only to keep their hands in? What need else, of saying it was the port of London, when every one knew the brandy was landed above three hundred miles from thence? What a monstrous contempt of truth does this show, or rather hatred to it? (2) Where is the justice of swelling four pounds into five hundred and seventy-seven? (3) Where is the common sense of taking up fourteen sheets, to tell a story that may be told in ten lines? (4) Where is the mercy, of thus grinding the face of the poor? Thus sucking the blood of a poor, beggared prisoner? Would not this be execrable villainy, if the paper and writing together were only sixpence a sheet, when they have stripped him already of his little all, and not left him fourteen groats in the world?

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To facilitate reading, the spelling and punctuation of elderly excerpts have generally been modernised, and distracting excision scars concealed. My selections, translations, and editions are copyright.

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Original

We returned to York, where I was desired to call upon a poor prisoner in the castle. I had formerly occasion to take notice of a hideous monster, called a Chancery Bill; I now saw the fellow to it, called a Declaration. The plain fact was this: Some time since, a man who lived near Yarm, assisted others in running some brandy; his share was worth near four pounds; after he had wholly left off that bad work, and was following his own business, that of a weaver, he was arrested, and sent to York gaol; and, not long after, comes down a Declaration, that Jac. Wh— had landed a vessel laded with brandy and geneva, at the port of London, and sold them there, whereby he was indebted to his Majesty, £577, and upwards;” and to tell this worthy story, the lawyer takes up thirteen or fourteen sheets of treble-stamped paper.

O England, England! will this reproach never be rolled away from thee? Is there any thing like this to be found, either among Papists, Turks, or Heathens? In the name of truth, justice, mercy, and common sense, I ask, 1. Why do men lie, for lying sake? Is it only to keep their hands in? What need else, of saying it was the port of London, when every one knew the brandy was landed above three hundred miles from thence? What a monstrous contempt of truth does this show, or rather hatred to it? 2. Where is the justice of swelling four pounds into five hundred and seventy-seven? 3. Where is the common sense of taking up fourteen sheets, to tell a story that may be told in ten lines? 4. Where is the mercy, of thus grinding the face of the poor? Thus sucking the blood of a poor, beggared prisoner? Would not this be execrable villany, if the paper and writing together were only sixpence a sheet, when they have stripped him already of his little all, and not left him fourteen groats in the world?

339 words.