Dutch Planters.
The Dutch planters of tobacco are among the happiest cultivators of the plant in Europe, if not in the world, and unlike the renowned Van Twiller never "have any doubts about the matter," and believe that tobacco is absolutely necessary to sustain life. After the evening meal the planter lights his pipe or calls upon the good dominie, to have a social chat, discoursing over their favorite beverage the virtues of two great luxuries. Oftener, however, he passes his evenings at the village inn, where, surrounded by other comrades, he discourses as follows of his favorite plant,—tabak:
"That the smoking of tobacco is of infinite benefit, no one who is impartial and unprejudiced can deny. In a country like Holland, where the atmosphere is always laden with heavy and hurtful particles, and where, while people breathe that atmosphere from above, they feel themselves not less affected from below by the cold, moist, swampy soil—the smoking and the chewing of tobacco are the wholesome prophylactics of which we can make use. To the Indians and the Negroes, tobacco is almost the only solace in this transient life. They learn, by means of it, to support nature, and to encounter valiantly, by its help, all the tribulations incidental to the human lot. If they are depressed, they smoke or chew tobacco, and gladden themselves therewith. If they are exhausted, and the sun and their hard and inhuman masters appear to conspire to destroy them, a little tobacco restores their strength, makes them forget their slavish life, and go vigorously to work again.
In the Thirty Years' War in Germany, the smoking and chewing of tobacco proved the salvation of many thousands of men, who by its aid guarded themselves against the deadly effects of deficient food and of bad meats and drinks. Nothing is so good, nothing so serviceable to human life, as the smoking of tobacco—which may well be called a kingly plant, seeing that the monarchs of the earth are not ashamed to use it. While tobacco cultivates sociality, and is of great avail in severe hunger and thirst, it strengthens the body and checks fluxions, and colds, and slimy humors. Nature has willed it that men should make use of plants like tobacco, which, by their heat and sharpness, draw the humors outward, and cause a slight salivation. Witness, as confirmation of what has been said, cloves and pepper, which hold sway nearly over the earth; betel, which to the Hindoos is the remedy for every disease; the onions and leeks of the Egyptians, who while building the pyramids and obelisks, spent their money eagerly on those dainties; and tobacco, which is adopted by the four quarters of the world.
The justly celebrated British physician, Cheyne, has remarked that both chewing and smoking of tobacco are exceedingly serviceable for those who suffer from rheumatic and catarrhal affections, have a sluggish digestion, or live a luxurious life. As tobacco has numerous slanderers, so there are many who know not how to turn tobacco to a good purpose. Excess and abuse may be found in the smoking and chewing of tobacco as in other things. Instead of using tobacco in moderation, there are persons who make themselves its slaves, and render themselves incapable of the immense benefit of the enlivening and stimulating effect they would otherwise owe to it. A little tobacco smoked or chewed three or four times a day cannot fail to be beneficial. But the adversaries of tobacco, in order to furnish themselves with an argument, make tobacco bear all the blame when some one who has given himself up to an intemperate and luxurious life, and who is besides a great smoker, becomes the victim of all kinds of discomforts and sickness. To condemn tobacco by saying those who begin to chew or smoke it nearly always suffer from malaise and nausea, is surely preposterous. May we not in fairness contend that tobacco is essentially wholesome, that it helps digestion, relieves the mind and cheers the spirits."
The following humorous account of "Thirsty Tobacco" is a most curious illustration of the superstitions which spontaneously grow up in the hearts of the people.
"Soon after the introduction of tobacco into Holland many of the Dutch were of the opinion that the tobacco plant drank in moisture greedily and required to be often and abundantly watered. From this insatiable thirst the belief arose that tobacco was the cause of rain, brought clouds to the heavens, and restored the general crops. Once, in the neighborhood of Amersfoot, the weather was very rainy, and the crops suffered accordingly. On the tobacco growing round the town the blame of the calamity was thrown; and it was resolved to punish tobacco, the sottish rain-drinker and wicked rain-bringer. A rabble, consisting chiefly of boys and youths, rushed to the tobacco fields, and scattered havoc with the ferocity of stupidity. The mad creatures pulled up the stalks, tore off the leaves, and trampled leaves and stalks under foot. Before they had done the work of destruction quite as completely as they desired, soldiers appeared on the scene. They sternly commanded the rioters to desist, but the rioters paid no heed either to entreaties or threats. Thereupon they drew their swords, as if by the mere flash of these to terrify the rioters, who laughed a laugh of contempt. Then effectually to frighten the rioters, the soldiers fired at them with blank cartridges. This harmless noise drove the mischief-makers to ignominious flight, and the tobacco plants which were still uninjured were left in peace."
At what exact time this destruction of "thirsty tobacco" took place we are left in doubt. It is doubtless a "good joke" got up by some "ponderous joker" for the amusement of Dutch smokers.
All admirers of tobacco like Holland and its people. It is emphatically the land of smoke. One is constantly in cloud-land, and whether in the house or on the street the incense of tobacco is perpetual, from the good natured dominie who puffs leisurely at many pipes to the humblest peasant who works modestly among the plants, all burn the fragrant weed and pay homage to its shrine. Ever since the Dutch looked upon the plant it has been more to them than king and courtier. The old Dutch burgomasters "who dozed away their lives and grew fat upon the bench of magistracy in Rotterdam; and who had comported themselves with such singular wisdom and propriety, that they were never either heard or talked of, owed all to the use and influence of the 'kingly plant.'" Not only are the Dutch prodigious smokers, but they use the pipe at all places and at all times. On the way to Church the pipe is lighted, and after service it is the solace of the evening hour.