At the Quarterly Meeting of Aberdeen Friends in 1692 a "weighty paper

containing several heads of solid advyces and Counsells to friends"

sent by Irish Quakers, was read. These counsels abound with amusingly

prim suggestions. Among them is the warning to "take heed of being

overcome with strong drink or tobacco, which many by custome are

brought into bondag to the creature." The Aberdeen Friends themselves

a little later were greatly concerned at the increasing indulgence in

"superfluous apparell and in vain recreations among the young ones";

and in 1698 they issued a paper dealing in great detail with matters

of dress and deportment. Among a hundred other things treated with

minutest particularity, the desire is expressed that "all Idle and

needless Smoaking of Tobacco be forborn."

William Penn did not like tobacco and was often annoyed by it in

America. Clarkson, his biographer, relates that on one occasion Penn

called to see some old friends at Burlington, who had been smoking,

but who, in consideration for his feelings, had put their pipes away.

Penn smelt the tobacco, and noticing that the pipes were concealed,

said, "Well, friends, I am glad that you are at last ashamed of your

old practice." "Not entirely so," replied one of the company, "but we

preferred laying down our pipes to the danger of offending a weaker

brother."

Many of the tobacco-boxes used in the latter part of the seventeenth

century were imported from Holland. They were long or oval and were

usually made of brass. They can be easily identified by their engraved

subjects and Dutch inscriptions. An example in the Colchester Museum

is made of copper and brass, with embossed designs and inscriptions,

representing commerce, &c., on the base and lid. It has engraved on

the sides the name and address of its owner--"Barnabas Barker,

Wyvenhoe, Essex." The similar boxes later made in England usually had

embossed ornamentation.

The local authorities in our eastern counties seem to have had some

curious ideas of their own as to where tobacco should or should not be

smoked. In a previous chapter we have seen that at Norwich, ale-house

keepers were fined for permitting smoking in their houses. At

Methwold, Suffolk, the folk improved upon this. The court-books of the

manor of Methwold contain the following entry made at a court held on

October 4, 1695: "We agree that any person that is taken smoakeinge

tobacco in the street shall forfitt one shillinge for every time so

taken, and itt shall be lawfull for the petty constabbles to distrane

for the same for to be putt to the uses abovesaid [_i.e._ "to the use

of the town"]. Wee present Nicholas Baker for smoakeinge in the

street, and doe amerce him 1s." The same rule is repeated at courts

held in the years 1696 and 1699, but no other fine is mentioned at any

subsequent courts. The good folk at Methwold may have been adepts at

petty tyranny, but such an absurd regulation must soon have become a

dead letter. While we are in the eastern counties we may note that in

1694 there died at Ely an apothecary named Henry Crofts, who owned,

among some other unusual items in his inventory, casks of brandy and

tobacco, which shows that even at that date, when regular

tobacconists' shops for the sale of tobacco had long been common, the

old business connexion between apothecaries and tobacco still

occasionally existed.

The clay pipes called "aldermen," with longer stems than their

predecessors, tipped with glaze, came into use towards the end of the

seventeenth century. They must not be confused with the much longer

"churchwarden" or "yard of clay" which was not in vogue till the early

years of the nineteenth century.

Towards the close of the seventeenth century signs may be detected of

some waning in the universal popularity of tobacco. There are hints of

change in the records of City and other companies. Tobacco had always

figured prominently in the provision for trade feasts. In 1651 the

Chester Company of Barbers, Surgeons, Wax and Tallow Chandlers--a

remarkably comprehensive organization--paid for "Sack beere and

Tobacco" at the Talbot on St. Luke's Day, October 18, on the occasion

of a dinner given to the Company by one Richard Walker; and similar

expenditure was common among both London and provincial Companies.

The court-books of the Skinners Company of London show that in

preparation for their annual Election Dinner in 1694, the cook

appeared before the court and produced a bill of fare which, with some

alterations, was agreed to. The butler then appeared and undertook to

provide knives, salt, pepper-pots, glasses, sauces, &c., "and

everything needfull for L7. and if he gives content then to have L8.

he provides all things but pipes, Tobacco, candles and beer"--which

apparently fell to the lot of some other caterer.

But so early as 1655 there is a sign of change of custom--a change,

that is, in the direction of restricting and limiting the hitherto

unbounded freedom granted to the use of tobacco. The London Society of

Apothecaries on August 15, 1655, held a meeting for the election of a

Master and an Upper Warden; and from the minutes of this meeting we

learn that by general consent it was forbidden henceforward to smoke

in the Court Room while dining or sitting, under penalty of half a

crown.

The more fashionable folk of the Restoration Era and later began to

leave off if not to disdain the smoking-habit. Up to about 1700

smoking had been permitted in the public rooms at Bath, but when Nash

then took charge, tobacco was banished. Public or at least fashionable

taste had begun to change, and Nash correctly interpreted and led it.

Sorbiere, who has been quoted in the previous chapter, remarked in

1663 that "People of Quality" did not use tobacco so much as others;

and towards the end of the century and in Queen Anne's time the

tendency was for tobacco to go out of fashion. This did not much

affect its general use; but the tendency--with exceptions, no

doubt--was to restrict the use of tobacco to the clergy, to country

squires, to merchants and tradesmen and to the humbler ranks of

society--to limit it, in short, to the middle and lower classes of the

social commonwealth as then organized. In the extraordinary record of

inanity which Addison printed as the diary of a citizen in the

_Spectator_ of March 4, 1712, the devotion of the worthy retired

tradesman to tobacco is emphasized. This is the kind of thing: "Monday

... Hours 10, 11 and 12 Smoaked three Pipes of Virginia ... one

o'clock in the afternoon, chid Ralph for mislaying my Tobacco-Box....

Wednesday ... From One to Two Smoaked a Pipe and a half.... Friday ...

From Four to Six. Went to the Coffee-house. Met Mr. Nisby there.

Smoaked several Pipes."

There was indeed no diminution of tobacco-smoke in the coffee-houses.

A visitor from abroad, Mr. Muralt, a Swiss gentleman, writing about

1696, said that character could be well studied at the coffee-houses.

He was probably not a smoker himself, for he goes on to say that in

other respects the coffee-houses are "loathsome, full of smoke like a

guardroom, and as much crowded." He further observed that it was

common to see the clergy of London in coffee-houses and even in

taverns, with pipes in their mouths. A native witness of about the

same date, Ned Ward, writes sneeringly in his "London Spy," 1699, of

the interior of the coffee-house. He saw "some going, some coming,

some scribbling, some talking, some drinking, some smoking, others

jingling; and the whole room stinking of tobacco, like a Dutch scoot,

or a boatswain's cabin.... We each of us stuck in our mouths a pipe of

sotweed, and now began to look about us." Ward's contemporary, Tom

Brown, took a different tone: he wrote of "Tobacco, Cole and the

Protestant Religion, the three great blessings of life!"--as strange a

jumble as one could wish for.

Even children seem to have smoked sometimes in the coffee-houses.

Ralph Thoresby, the Leeds antiquary, tells a strange story. He

declares that, one evening which he spent with his brother at

Garraway's Coffee-house, February 20, 1702, he was surprised to see

his brother's "sickly child of three years old fill its pipe of

tobacco and smoke it as _audfarandly_ as a man of three score; after

that a second and a third pipe without the least concern, as it is

said to have done above a year ago." A child of two years of age

smoking three pipes in succession is a picture a little difficult to

accept as true. As this is the only reference to tobacco in the whole

of his "Diary," it is not likely that Thoresby was himself a smoker.

At the coffee-house entrance was the bar presided over by the

predecessors of the modern barmaids--grumbled at in a _Spectator_ as

"idols," who there received homage from their admirers, and who paid

more attention to customers who flirted with them than to more

sober-minded visitors. They are described by Tom Brown as "a charming

Phillis or two, who invited you by their amorous glances into their

smoaky territories." Admission cost little. There you might see--

_Grave wits, who, spending farthings four,

Sit, smoke, and warm themselves an hour._

The allusions in the _Spectator_ to smoking in the coffee-houses are

frequent. "Sometimes," says Addison, in his title character in the

first number of the paper, "sometimes I smoak a pipe at Child's and

whilst I seem attentive to nothing but the _Post-man_, over-hear the

conversation of every table in the room." And here is a vignette of

coffee-house life in 1714 from No. 568 of the _Spectator_: "I was

yesterday in a coffee-house not far from the Royal Exchange, where I

observed three persons in close conference over a pipe of tobacco;

upon which, having filled one for my own use, I lighted it at the

little wax candle that stood before them; and after having thrown in

two or three whiffs amongst them, sat down and made one of the

company. I need not tell my reader, that lighting a man's pipe at the

same candle is looked upon among brother-smoakers as an overture to

conversation and friendship." From the very beginning smoking has

induced and fostered a spirit of comradeship.

Sir Roger de Coverley, as a typical country squire, was naturally a

smoker. He presented his friend the Spectator, the silent gentleman,

with a tobacco-stopper made by Will Wimble, telling him that Will had

been busy all the early part of the winter in turning great quantities

of them, and had made a present of one to every gentleman in the

county who had good principles and smoked. When Sir Roger was driving

in a hackney-coach he called upon the coachman to stop, and when the

man came to the window asked him if he smoked. While Sir Roger's

companion was wondering "what this would end in," the knight bid his

Jehu to "stop by the way at any good Tobacconist's, and take in a Roll

of their best Virginia." And when he visited Squire's near Gray's Inn

Gate, his first act was to call for a clean pipe, a paper of tobacco,

a dish of coffee, a newspaper and a wax candle; and all the boys in

the coffee-room ran to serve him. The wax candle was of course a

convenience in matchless days for pipe-lighting. The "paper of

tobacco" was the equivalent of what is now vulgarly called a "screw"

of tobacco.

The practice of selling tobacco in small paper packets was common, and

moralists naturally had something to say about the fate of an author's

work, when the leaves of his books found their ultimate use as

wrappers for the weed. "For as no mortal author," says Addison, "in

the ordinary fate and vicissitude of things, knows to what use his

works may, some time or other, be applied, a man may often meet with

very celebrated names in a paper of tobacco. I have lighted my pipe

more than once with the writings of a prelate."

Addison and Steele smoked, and so did Prior, who seems to have had a

weakness at times for low company. After spending an evening with

Oxford, Bolingbroke, Pope and Swift, it is recorded that he would go

"and smoke a pipe, and drink a bottle of ale, with a common soldier

and his wife, in Long Acre, before he went to bed." Some of Prior's

poems, as Thackeray caustically remarks, smack not a little of the

conversation of his Long Acre friends. Pope for awhile attended the

symposium at Button's coffee-house, where Addison was the centre of

the coterie--he describes himself as sitting with them till two in the

morning over punch and Burgundy amid the fumes of tobacco--but such a

way of life did not suit his sickly constitution, and he soon

withdrew. It is not likely that he smoked.

The attractions and the atmosphere of provincial coffee-houses were

much the same as those of the London resorts. A German gentleman who

visited Cambridge in July and August 1710 remarked that in the Greeks'

coffee-house in that town, in the morning and after 3 o'clock in the

afternoon, you could meet the chief professors and doctors, who read

the papers over a cup of coffee and a pipe of tobacco. One of the

learned doctors took the German visitor to the weekly meeting of a

Music Club in one of the colleges. Here were assembled bachelors,

masters and doctors of music of the University--no professionals were

employed--who performed vocal and instrumental music to their mutual

gratification, though, apparently, not to the satisfaction of the

visitor, who records his opinion that the music was "very poor." "It

lasted," he says, "till 11 P.M., there was besides smoking and

drinking of wine, though we did not do much of either. At 11 the

reckoning was called for, and each person paid 2s."

There was clearly no prejudice against smoking at Cambridge. Abraham

de la Pryme notes in his diary for the year 1694 that when it was

rumoured in May of that year that a certain house opposite one of the

colleges was haunted, strange noises being heard in it, several

scholars of the college said, "Come, fetch us a good pitcher of ale,

and tobacco and pipes, and wee'l sit up and see this spirit." The ale

was duly provided, the pipes were lit, and the courageous smokers

spent the night in the house, sitting "singing and drinking there till

morning," but, alas! they neither saw nor heard anything.

Smoking was still popular also at Oxford. A. D'Anvers, in her

"Academia; or the Humours of Oxford," 1691, speaks, indeed, of

undergraduates who, when they could not get tobacco, did much as the

parson of Thornton is reputed to have done, as already related in

Chapter II, _i.e._ they condescended to smoke fragments of mats. With

this may be compared the macaronic lines:

_At si_

Mundungus _desit: tum non_ funcare _recusant_

Brown-Paper _tosta, vel quod fit arundine_ bed-mat.

Tobacco, in Queen Anne's time, still maintained its hold over large

classes of the people, and was still dominant in most places of public

resort; but there were signs of change in various directions as we

have seen, and smoking had to a large extent ceased to be fashionable.

Pepys has very few allusions to tobacco; Evelyn fewer still. There is

little evidence as to whether or not the gallants of the Restoration

Court smoked; but considering the foppery of their attire and manners,

it seems almost certain that tobacco was not in favour among them. The

beaux with their full wigs--they carried combs of ivory or

tortoiseshell in their pockets with which they publicly combed their

flowing locks--their dandy canes and scented, laced handkerchiefs,

were not the men to enjoy the flavour of tobacco in a pipe. They were

still tobacco-worshippers; but they did not smoke. The Indian weed

retained its empire over the men (and women) of fashion by changing

its form. The beaux were the devotees of snuff. The deftly handled

pinch pleasantly titillated their nerves, and the dexterous use of the

snuff-box, moreover, could also serve the purposes of vanity by

displaying the beautiful whiteness of the hand, and the splendour of

the rings upon the fingers. The curled darlings of the late

seventeenth century and the "pretty fellows" of Queen Anne's time did

not forswear tobacco, but they abjured smoking. Snuff-taking was

universal in the fashionable world among both men and women; and the

development of this habit made smoking unfashionable.

VII

SMOKING UNFASHIONABLE: EARLY GEORGIAN DAYS

Lord Fopling smokes not--for his teeth afraid;

Sir Tawdry smokes not--for he wears brocade.

ISAAC HAWKINS BROWNE, _circa_ 1740.

With the reign of Queen Anne tobacco had entered on a period, destined

to be of long duration, when smoking was to a very large extent under

a social ban. Pipe-smoking was unfashionable--that is to say, was not

practised by men of fashion, and was for the most part regarded as

"low" or provincial--from the time named until well into the reign of

Queen Victoria. The social taboo was by no means universal--some of

the exceptions will be noted in these pages--but speaking broadly, the

general, almost universal smoking of tobacco which had been

characteristic of the earlier decades of the seventeenth century did

not again prevail until within living memory.

Throughout the eighteenth century the use of tobacco for smoking was

largely confined to the middle and humbler classes of society. To

smoke was characteristic of the "cit," of the country squire, of the

clergy (especially of the country parsons), and of those of lower

social status. But at the same time it must be borne in mind that

then, as since, the dictates of fashion and the conventions of

society were little regarded by many artists and men of letters.

In the preceding chapter I quoted from Addison's diary of a retired

tradesman in the _Spectator_ of 1712. The periodical publications of a

generation or so later paid the great essayist the flattery of

imitation in this respect as in others. In the _Connoisseur_ of George

Colman and Bonnell Thornton, for instance, there is, in 1754, the

description of a citizen's Sunday. The good man, having sent his

family to church in the morning, goes off himself to Mother Redcap's,

a favourite tavern--suburban in those days--or house of call for City

tradesmen. There he smokes half a pipe and drinks a pint of ale. In

the evening at another tavern he smokes a pipe and drinks two pints of

cider, winding up the inane day at his club, where he smokes three

pipes before coming home at twelve to go to bed and sleep soundly.

The week-end habit was strong among London tradesmen in those days.

Another _Connoisseur_ paper of 1754 refers to the citizens'

country-boxes as dusty retreats, because they were always built in

close contiguity to the highway so that the inhabitants could watch

the traffic, in the absence of anything more sensible to do, where

"the want of London smoke is supplied by the smoke of Virginia

tobacco," and where "our chief citizens are accustomed to pass the end

and the beginning of every week." In the following year there is a

description of a visit to Vauxhall by a worthy citizen with his wife

and two daughters. After supper the poor man sadly laments that he

cannot have his pipe, because his wife, with social ambitions, deems

that it is "ungenteel to smoke, where any ladies are in company."

Again, in the _Connoisseur's_ rival, the _World_, founded and

conducted by Edward Moore, there is a letter, in the number dated

February 19, 1756, from a citizen who says: "I have the honour to be a

member of a certain club in this city, where it is a standing order,

That the paper called the _World_ be constantly brought upon the

table, with clean glasses, pipes and tobacco, every Thursday after

dinner."

The country gentlemen of the time followed the hounds and enjoyed

rural sports of all kinds, drank ale, and smoked tobacco. They had

their smoking-rooms too. Walter Gale, schoolmaster at Mayfield,

Sussex, noted in his Journal under date March 26, 1751: "I went to Mr.

Baker's for the list of scholars, and found him alone in the

smoaking-room; he ordered a pint of mild beer for me, an extraordinary

thing." Gale himself was a regular smoker, and too fond of pints of

ale.

Fielding has immortalized the squire of the mid-eighteenth century in

his picture of that sporting, roaring, swearing, drinking, smoking,

affectionate, irascible, blundering, altogether extraordinary owner of

broad acres, Squire Western. We may shrewdly suspect that the portrait

of Western is somewhat over-coloured, and cannot fairly be taken as

typical; but there is sufficient evidence to show that in some

respects at least--in his enthusiasm for sport and love of ale and

tobacco--Western is representative of the country squires of his day.

In a _World_ of 1755 there is a description of a noisy, hearty,

drinking, devil-may-care country gentleman, in which it is said, "he

makes no scruple to take his pipe and pot at an alehouse with the very

dregs of the people." In a _Connoisseur_ of 1754 a fine gentleman

from London, making a visit in a country-house, is taking his

breakfast with the ladies in the afternoon, when they had their tea,

for, says he, "I should infallibly have perished, had I staied in the

hall, amidst the jargon of toasts and the fumes of tobacco." When

Horace Walpole was staying with his father at his Norfolk

country-seat, Houghton, in September 1737, Gray wrote to him from

Cambridge: "You are in a confusion of wine, and roaring, and hunting,

and tobacco, and, heaven be praised, you too can pretty well bear it."

But Gray had no objection to tobacco. He lived at Cambridge, and the

dons and residents there (as at Oxford), not to speak of the

undergraduates, were as partial to their pipes as the men who went out

from among them to become country parsons, and to share the country

squire's liking for tobacco. Gray wrote to Warton from Cambridge in

April 1749 saying: "Time will settle my conscience, time will

reconcile me to this languid companion (ennui); we shall smoke, we

shall tipple, we shall doze together"--a striking picture of

University life in the sleepy days of the eighteenth century. Gray's

testimony by no means stands alone. In November 1730 Roger North wrote

to his son Montague, then an undergraduate at Cambridge, saying: "I

would be loath you should confirm the scandal charged upon the

universities of learning chiefly to smoke and to drink."

At Oxford in early Georgian days a profound calm--so far as study was

concerned--appears to have prevailed. Little work was done, but much

tobacco was smoked. In 1733 a satire was published, violently

attacking the Fellows of various colleges. According to this satirist

the occupation of the Magdalen Fellow was to

_drink, look big,

Smoke much, think little, curse the freeborn Whig--_

from which it may not unreasonably be surmised that the author was a

Tory; and however little enthusiasm there may have been at Oxford in

those days for learning and study, there was plenty of life in

political animosities.

Another witness to the dons' love of tobacco is Thomas Warton. In his

"Progress of Discontent," written in 1746, he plaintively sang:

_Return, ye days when endless pleasure

I found in reading or in leisure!

When calm around the Common Room

I puff'd my daily pipe's perfume!

Rode for a stomach, and inspected,

At annual bottlings, corks selected:

And dined untax'd, untroubled, under

The portrait of our pious Founder!_

Warton and another Oxford smoker of some distinction--the Rev. William

Crowe, who was Public Orator from 1784 to 1829--are both said to have

been, like Prior, rather fond of frequenting the company of persons of

humble rank and little education, with whom they would drink their ale

and smoke their pipes.

Mr. A.D. Godley, in his "Oxford in the Eighteenth Century," gives an

excellent English version of the Latin original of one of the Christ

Church "Carmina Quadragesmalia," which affords much the same picture

of the daily life of an Oxford Fellow in the days when George I was

king. This good man lives strictly by rule, and each returning day--

_Ne'er swerves a hairbreadth from the same old way.

Always within the memory of men

He's risen at eight and gone to bed at ten:

The same old cat his College room partakes,

The same old scout his bed each morning makes:

On mutton roast he daily dines in state

(Whole flocks have perished to supply his plate),

Takes just one turn to catch the westering sun,

Then reads the paper, as he's always done;

Soon cracks in Common-room the same old jokes,

Drinking three glasses ere three pipes he smokes:--

And what he did while Charles our throne did fill

'Neath George's heir you'll find him doing still._

The Social History of Smoking · 第 5 / 15 段