How Town Criers Became the Voice of Authority
For centuries, town criers were more than just newsreaders—they were the official voice of the ruling authority. Their role dates back to ancient Greece, where heralds like Stentor, famed for his thunderous voice, announced military victories and royal decrees. By the medieval period, town criers had become indispensable in European cities, particularly in England, where they served as the primary means of communication in an era when most people were illiterate. Their proclamations carried the weight of the monarchy, reinforcing their status as trusted figures in society.
What set town criers apart from ordinary messengers was their legal protection. Because they spoke on behalf of kings and local governments, attacking a town crier was considered treason—a crime punishable by death. This protection, enshrined in law, cemented their authority and gave rise to the phrase “don’t shoot the messenger.” Their announcements, often beginning with the commanding call of “Oyez, Oyez, Oyez!” (meaning “Hear ye!” in Old French), demanded immediate attention and signaled the delivery of official information.
Beyond simply relaying news, town criers also exercised law enforcement duties. They patrolled streets, arrested troublemakers, and ensured that nightly fires were properly extinguished—a crucial task in cities prone to devastating blazes. Their presence maintained order, making them both informers and enforcers of the law. This dual role, combined with their direct ties to government authority, made town criers some of the most influential figures in medieval and early modern towns.
The Strict Rules They Had to Follow When Announcing News
Town criers were not just loud voices in the street—they were bound by strict regulations that ensured the accuracy and authority of their proclamations. Every public announcement had to begin with the traditional call: **”Oyez, Oyez, Oyez!”**—a Norman French phrase meaning “hear ye”—which commanded attention and signaled that an official decree was about to follow. This was not just custom; it was a mandated practice that reinforced the legitimacy of their role.
Accuracy was paramount. Criers were required to read verbatim from official documents, preventing personal interpretation or embellishment. After announcing the news, they would publicly post the written proclamation on a designated wall or door—often at an inn or town hall—so that literate citizens could verify its contents. Any deviation from the official wording could lead to severe penalties, as even minor errors could cause unrest or miscommunication.
Their responsibilities extended beyond simple announcements. Town criers also acted as law enforcement auxiliaries, ensuring order during public gatherings. They were legally protected, as they spoke on behalf of the monarchy—assaulting a crier was considered treason. These regulations ensured that town criers remained trusted voices of authority, bridging the gap between rulers and the largely illiterate public for centuries.
The Punishments for Getting the News Wrong—Fines and Arrests
Being a town crier wasn’t just about shouting news in the town square—it was a job that carried serious risks. These men and women were the official voices of authority, delivering proclamations on behalf of the monarchy or local government. But with great responsibility came equally great consequences. If a town crier got the news wrong—whether by misreading a proclamation, omitting critical details, or, worse, misrepresenting the message—they could face harsh punishments, including fines, dismissal, and even imprisonment.
Fines were among the most common penalties. In 18th-century England, town criers were typically paid between 2 and 4 pence per proclamation, but if they made an error, they could be docked the same amount or more as punishment. More severe mistakes—especially those that caused public confusion or unrest—could lead to arrest. Since town criers represented the crown, a major misstep could even be considered treasonous, a charge that carried the gravest of consequences. This strict accountability ensured that criers took their duties seriously, reinforcing their reputation as reliable sources of information in an era when literacy was low and misinformation could have dire effects.
Why Town Criers Were Trusted More Than Written News
For centuries, town criers were the most reliable source of news for the majority of the population. Unlike written proclamations, which were inaccessible to the illiterate masses, town criers delivered announcements verbally, ensuring that crucial information reached everyone. In medieval Europe, where literacy rates were exceptionally low, a town crier’s booming voice was often the only way people learned about new laws, royal decrees, or market changes. Their role was not just practical—it was essential for maintaining civic order.
Another reason for their credibility was their official status. Town criers were appointed by local authorities or the monarchy itself, making them government-sanctioned messengers. Their distinctive uniforms—typically red and gold coats, breeches, and tricorne hats—visually reinforced their authority. When a town crier spoke, people knew they were hearing an official proclamation, not rumors or misinformation. This trust was further solidified by legal protections; harming a town crier was considered an act of treason, as they acted on behalf of the ruler.
Unlike written news, which could be forged or misinterpreted, town criers operated in full public view. Their announcements were made in crowded marketplaces or town squares, allowing immediate verification and discussion. The ritualized nature of their proclamations, often beginning with “Oyez, Oyez, Oyez” and ending with “God save the King,” reinforced their legitimacy. This combination of accessibility, official endorsement, and public performance made town criers the most trusted source of news in their time.
The Role of Bells and Catchphrases in Their Announcements
Town criers didn’t just stroll into a square and start speaking—they had a system, a performance, a ritual. The first step? The unmistakable clang of a large handbell. This wasn’t just for show; in a time when streets bustled with merchants, animals, and townsfolk, the bell was a practical tool that cut through the noise and commanded attention. It was more than a signal—it was a symbol of authority. When a town crier rang that bell, people knew official news was coming, and they had better listen.
Then came the words that still echo in historical memory: “Oyez, Oyez, Oyez!” This phrase, derived from the Anglo-Norman French word ouïr (meaning “to hear”), was a direct command: Listen up! It wasn’t a polite request—it was an order, and it worked. In some regions, criers used the English equivalent, “Hear ye! Hear ye!” but the effect was the same: instant silence, full attention.
After delivering their proclamation, town criers often closed with another important phrase: “God save the King” or “God save the Queen.” This wasn’t just a formality—it reinforced the idea that the crier spoke on behalf of the ruling authority. Their words weren’t mere opinions; they carried the weight of law, decree, or royal will.
This structured approach—bell, opening call, proclamation, and royal blessing—wasn’t arbitrary. It ensured that even in an era of widespread illiteracy, official messages were heard, understood, and respected.
How Town Criers Helped Shape Public Opinion in Crisis Times
Town criers were more than just messengers; they were the authoritative voices of their communities during times of crisis. Whether announcing emergency decrees, wartime updates, or public health warnings, these figures played a crucial role in shaping how societies responded to urgent events. Their proclamations carried weight because they were officially sanctioned by the monarchy or local governments, ensuring that their words were perceived as law. In an era when literacy was low and printed news was scarce, town criers became the primary source of reliable information, influencing public sentiment through both the content and tone of their announcements.
One of the most striking examples of criers shaping public opinion occurred during the Great Fire of London in 1666. As flames consumed the city, town criers ran through the streets, issuing evacuation orders and spreading critical safety instructions. Their rapid communication likely saved countless lives by directing citizens away from danger zones. Similarly, during outbreaks of the plague, town criers were instrumental in enforcing quarantines and announcing health mandates, helping to manage public fear and compliance. Their presence reassured communities, providing a sense of order amid chaos.
Beyond emergencies, criers also played a role in wartime propaganda. Governments often used them to bolster morale, spreading news of military victories while downplaying defeats. In medieval Europe, rulers relied on criers to frame political narratives, ensuring that the public received a version of events that aligned with official interests. This ability to control the flow of information made town criers powerful tools in influencing public perception, reinforcing loyalty to the crown or local authorities.
Even as printed news became more widespread, town criers retained their influence by translating complex legal decrees into language the public could easily understand. Their role extended beyond mere announcements—they were interpreters of policy, shaping how people perceived and reacted to government decisions. In times of unrest, they could calm tensions with carefully crafted messages, acting as intermediaries between authorities and the people.
Ultimately, town criers were not just bearers of news; they were architects of public opinion. Their voices could instill fear, inspire hope, or rally a community in moments of crisis. In an age where misinformation was rampant and written news was inaccessible to many, the town crier stood as a trusted figure whose words could shape the course of history.
The Last of the Town Criers—How the Tradition Slowly Died Out
For centuries, town criers were the primary source of news in communities where literacy was low and written media was scarce. But as societies evolved, so did the ways people received information. By the mid-19th century, the role of town criers had already begun to wane. The spread of literacy and the rise of newspapers meant that people could now read the news for themselves, reducing the need for verbal proclamations in town squares. By 1851, town criers like Henry Sarney had shifted their duties from vocal announcements to the distribution and posting of written notices, marking a significant step toward their decline.
The 20th century accelerated this trend. The advent of radio and television provided faster, more efficient ways to disseminate news, making town criers largely obsolete. By the 1970s, the profession had almost entirely disappeared, surviving only as a ceremonial role in certain towns. In Britain, Chester remains one of the last places where a town crier can still be regularly heard, delivering proclamations at High Cross during the summer.
Despite their decline, the tradition has not vanished entirely. Organizations like the Ancient and Honourable Guild of Town Criers, founded in 1978, have worked to preserve the practice, turning it into a competitive and cultural spectacle. Today, about 200 official town criers remain across the British Commonwealth, participating in civic events and festivals. In North America, places like Provincetown, Massachusetts, and the Village of Mariemont, Ohio, still maintain town criers for ceremonial occasions. While they no longer serve as the primary news source, town criers continue to embody a living link to the past, reminding modern audiences of a time when the news was shouted, not streamed.
