On This Day, 336 Years Ago: Publick Occurrences Both Forreign and Domestick

On this day in 1690, the first American newspaper was published, Boston’s Publick Occurrences Both Forreign and Domestick. As Reed College’s very own Quest is surely the direct descendent of the resplendent journalistic tradition birthed by Publick Occurrences, it goes without saying that they bear some striking resemblances. First, the newspaper was very short, only four pages long, with the last page left blank so you could fill it in with your own news. Second, it claimed to have an unwavering sense of journalistic integrity. In its preamble, it declares: “That some thing may be done towards the Curing, or at least the Charming of that Spirit of Lying, which prevails among us, wherefore nothing shall be entered, but what we have reason to believe is true (all italics original).” It follows this up with “if any well minded person will be at the pains to trace any such false Report, so far as to find out and Convict the First Raiser of it, he will in this Paper (unless just Advice be given to the contrary) expose the Name of such person, as A malicious Raiser of a False Report,” inviting people to tell the paper the names of rumor-mongers and other liars.  I shudder to imagine what the publishers of Publick Occurrences would think of the MCs.

Newspapers emerged in Europe during the beginning of the early modern period and spread through the continent in the decades following. Though many early newspapers make pretenses towards providing the truth unbridled by bias or opinion, journalistic ethics or objectivity as they now exist did not really come into being until the 20th century. Nowhere can this be seen clearer than in the publisher of Publick Occurrences, Benjamin Harris. Emerging from the London of the late 17th century, he made his career disseminating rags like Protestant (Domestick) Intelligence and other newspapers of an anti-Catholic bent. This worked well for him until the throne of England passed to a Catholic king, when suddenly Harris found himself in hot water and fled to British America, opening a coffee house there. He became close with the Puritan upper-crust Mather family, who probably assisted him with the writing and publication of Publick Occurrences.

So, what does the newspaper actually contain? As heretofore mentioned, not much. Instead of distinct articles, it could be better described as a series of paragraphs flowing into each other, containing a variety of news pieces organized in no particular order, presumably all penned by Harris. The newspaper opens with a report of “THE Christianized Indians” enjoying a bounteous harvest, and murders committed by “barbarous Indians.” Native American groups were on the mind of colonists due to the then-raging King William’s War, fought by the French against the British with much support from indigenous allies on both sides. Indeed, the war dominates the few pages of this first issue, which report on smallpox among the army and the massacres committed by both sides, including the butchery of troops by British-aligned forces. Foreign news is restricted to mentions of those rascally Catholics, such as the French king sleeping with his daughter-in-law and the treacherous Irish casting their lot in with Catholic pretenders to the English throne. The writing is also very religious, mentioning the Devil and God directly influencing murders and natural disasters, including a fire which burned “the best furnished PRINTING PRESS of those few that we know of in America.”

Unfortunately, Publick Occurrences did not have a very regular publication schedule. It acknowledges this in its first sentence, saying that “the Countrey shall be furnished once a moneth (or if any Glut of Occurrences happen oftener) with an Account of such considerable things as have arrived unto our Notice.” If the Quest printed only when notable things happened, I wouldn’t be writing this space-filler as we speak. Further complicating matters, those mentions of British war crimes may have been too much for the government to handle, and a ban was quickly leveled against Harris and his newspaper, claiming it contained “sundry doubtful and uncertain Reports” and resolving to “manifest and declare their high Resentment and Disallowance of said Pamphlet.” There was never a second issue of Publick Occurrences, and Harris disappeared back to England, never to be heard from again and never living out his dreams of publishing the names of shit-stirrers in his newspaper. Can we, here at our own shining example of American journalism, learn anything from Publick Occurrences? Papers don’t work when just one person, such as Harris, or a very small group of people, like the Quest, is writing them. Also, you never know when a newspaper will be suppressed by the colonial authorities of 17th century New England, or when the one good printing press will burn down, so treasure the Quest while we still have it. Or, to put as Harris might’ve, Write for THE QUEST.