Thousands of ours he here hath captive taken,
Of all degrees kept under slavish yoke
Their God, their good, King, country, friends, forsaken,
To follow follie, and to feed on smoke.
Scanning the horizon he discovers Satan, enraged, working in short circuit two smoky engines—‘guns and tobocco pipes vented from the infernal pit.’ In this turgid style he pours out his puerile conceits much in the manner of his royal patron, whose good opinion he won so fully that James made him his Court poet.
The levy of a duty on tobacco so excessive as that which King James imposed namely, six shillings and tenpence—equivalent to about thirty shillings of our present money—upon every pound weight imported or grown in the country, coupled with great extravagance in its use brought ruin to many families, just as does over-indulgence in strong drink to those who are not satisfied with the moderation which reason dictates. In the case of tobacco the ruin was in money, whereas with alcohol in excess ruin comes to body and mind as well as purse. Our excellent guide along the by-paths of literature, John Aubrey, from whom we have gleaned many things respecting the use of tobacco, says, ‘In my early days (temp. Charles the First) tobacco was sold for its weight in silver.’ And in the family account-books of well-to-do people that have come to light we get occasional glimpses of its cost. A book of household expenses kept by Sir Henry Oglander, of Nunwell, in the Isle of Wight (1626), contains an entry of five shillings paid for eight ounces of tobacco. The price varies on different dates, according to the quality of the weed. Virginian seems to have been the favourite growth, though Spanish is the more frequently mentioned. A worthy old gentleman named Peter Campbell, living in Derbyshire, was so incensed against the smoking habit that in his Will, making over his household goods to his eldest son, Roger, he inserted a special clause to the effect that if at any time either his brothers or his sisters ‘fynd him smoking of tobacco he shall forfeit all or their full valew.’ Roger, who loved his pipe, would be lucky indeed if he escaped the watchful eyes of his five brothers and three sisters.
Sir Edwin Sandys, Member of Parliament for Pontefract, (1620) grew alarmed at the prodigious quantity of tobacco consumed in this country, and inquiring into the matter found that Spain was sending to England tobacco to the value of £100,000 a year for which in payment ‘we sent our cloths and other merchandise.… Nay, that sum will not pay for all the tobacco we have from thence; they have more from us every year: £20,000. So that there goes out of this kingdom as good as £120,000 for tobacco every year!’ He would have opened wide his eyes with amazement if some genius had whispered in his ear that under Edward VII. the duty alone on the quantity consumed in these islands would amount to over £13,000,000 a year. The increased and constantly increasing consumption of tobacco, prodigious as it was in the eyes of our forefathers, was not peculiar to England. Dr. Everard in his treatise on the Wonderful Virtues of Tobacco taken in a Pipe[11] says that its use had spread with amazing rapidity all over the known world, and that its cultivation and manufacture gave employment to millions of people who, were the consumption stopped, would probably perish for want of food. He likens the rise and progress of the industry to Elias’s cloud, ‘which was no bigger than a man’s hand.… It hath suddenly covered the face of the Earth: the low countries, Germany, Poland, Arabia, Persia, Turkey; almost all countries drive a trade in it, and there is no commodity that hath advanced so many small fortunes to gain great estates in the world.’ The translator adds, ‘Scholars take it much, and many grave and great men take tobacco to make them more serviceable in their callings.… Soldiers and seamen cannot but want it during their arduous duties in cold and tempestuous weather. Farmers, ploughmen, porters, labourers, plead for it, saying, they find great refreshment by it.’
English smokers cared little for the fulminations against the indulgence issued from high places. Even a taxation which in these days would provoke a riot merely drew from them a mild growl. An example of this more excellent way is found in Dr. Barclay’s Nepenthes, or the Vertues of Tobacco. In the tranquil spirit of a devotee of St Nicotine he addresses to ‘My Lord Bishop Murray’ the following lines:
The statelie, rich, late conquer’d Indian plaines,