Being tobacco pipes the assumption, in some circles, was
that the one sure thing was that they had been used to smoke tobacco. The
debate raged for some time: Had Shakespeare smoked pot? Tobacco? Both?
A great deal of silliness was spouted.
The New World herb that came to be called tobacco arrived in
Europe via Spain around 1560. It was a medicine, at that point, and taken in
various preparations but not yet smoked. It seems primarily to have been ground
into a powder and added to medicinal recipes or reduced into an oil. Like all
exotic herbs and plants from the New World, at first it was beyond the means of
all but a small wealthy class.
Reputed to be the first to “drink” tobacco ( the term for what
we call “smoking”) was Ralph Lane, the governor of the second of Sir Walter
Raleigh’s Virginia expeditions, in 1586. The lands from which the Spanish first
brought back the herb seem to have chewed on it for energy much like they did
the cocoa leaf. The Virginia natives, on the other hand, had come to smoke it
in pipes they called “tabaca”. Raleigh’s expeditionaries brought back the habit
of groups drinking from a single communal pipe handed around.
Raleigh is said, apocryphally, to have drunk his smoke alone at times.[1] If true, this may well be the only description of having one’s private tobacco and pipe until Thomas Lodge’s complaint about the popular habit in his Wit's Miserie, and the World's Madnesse (1596).
Ben Jonson’s Every Man Out of his Humour (1598) portrays
the drinking of smoke as the ultimate sign of a London “gentleman”. The common
London citizen-class becoming rapidly more wealthy, they defined down the term “gentleman”
to fit their purposes. Already, in 1598, the gentleman was an adept at forming
smoke rings and puffing smoke out of his mouth and drawing it in through his
nose (known as “the whiff”).
By the time of Thomas Dekker’s The Gull's Horn-book
(1602), in spite of years of constant satire, by numerous writers, the art of
drinking smoke had grown to wonderful proportions:
Before the meat come smoking to the board, our gallant must
draw out his tobacco-box, the ladle for the cold snuff into the nostril, the
tongs, and priming-iron; all which artillery may be of gold or silver, if he
can reach the price of it; it will be a reasonable useful pawn at all times, when
the amount of his money falls out to run low. And here you must observe to know
in what tobacco is in town, better than the merchants, and to discourse of the
apothecaries where it is to be sold; then let him show his several tricks in
taking it, as the whiff, the ring, &c, for these are compliments that gain
gentlemen no mean respect.[2]
By this time yet another new aspect of gentlemen smoking was
also becoming more prevalent in London plays. Gentle women are portrayed
as being entirely turned off by the habit. They are revolted by the smell of
their paramours’ breath. A little further along in the history of the stage
appears perfumed tobacco. The data would seem to indicate mixed results at
best in the love-making department. Ladies of the street, however, were often
enough so demonstrably hardy as to drink smoke themselves. Presumably finishing
their quaff with a belch.
The character Sogliardo, in Every Man Out, having at long
last managed to buy a family crest from the College of Heralds, is next eager
to learn the art of drinking smoke in order to fulfill his responsibilities in
his new rank. It was next in importance to going heavily in debt to one’s
tailor.
Sogliardo, it turns out, is fashioned closely upon the
biography of William Shakspere of Stratford. It has long been a scholarly commonplace
that the two are one and the same. None of the participants seems to have
caught onto this coincidence during the 2015 debates. It seems Jonson has
informed us outright that Shakspere did indeed smoke — tobacco. It was only one
of the ways that Jonson found him a ridiculous pretender, a “clown”.
But this leaves the matter in an uncomfortable condition only hinted at in 2015. Of all of the younger playwrights actively writing plays from 1598 onward Shakespeare alone has not one single reference to smoking in all of his works. It isn’t that he never wrote about the life of the London streets. He has given us many classic street scenes drawn from the life of the city. But smoking does not exist in them. Not in the slightest hint. It is as if drinking smoke did not exist in his world rather than going on everywhere around him.
[1] The same exact anecdote is told of Raleigh and Richard Tarleton.
[2]
Dekker, Thomas. The Gull's Horn Book by Thomas Dekker (1609, 1905), ed. Mckerrow.
35.
Also at Virtual Grub Street:
1 comment:
Smoking seems to have become commonplace by the mid 1590s: Jonson's Every Man Out shows that and that Puntarvolo his caricature of Oxford disapproved of it; it also means that the place were substantially written well before that date
Post a Comment