A Happy New Year Happiness
Sir John Sinclair, visiting Lord Melville at
Wimbledon on the last day of the year 1795, remained
all night, and next morning entered his host's room at
an early hour to wish him a happy New Year. Melville,
who had been reading a long paper on the importance of
conquering the Cape of Good Hope, as an additional
security to our Indian possessions, said, as he
received the shake of his friend's hand:
'I hope this
year will be happier than the last, for I scarcely
recollect having spent one happy day in the whole of
it.' 'This confession, coming from an individual whose
whole life hitherto had been a series of triumphs, and
who appeared to stand secure upon the summit of
political ambition, was often dwelt upon by my father,
as exemplifying the vanity of human wishes.'�Memoirs
of Sir John Sinclair by his Son, 1837, i. 275.
This anecdote recalls one which
Gibbon extracts
from the pages of Cardonne. He states that in the
Closet of the Kaliph Abdalrahman the following
confession was found after his decease:
'I have now
reigned fifty years in victory or peace; beloved by my
subjects, dreaded by my enemies, and respected by my
allies. Riches and honours, power and pleasure, have
waited on my call, nor does any earthly blessing
appear to have been wanting to my felicity. In this
situation I have numbered the days of pure and genuine
happiness which have fallen to my lot: they amount to
fourteen. 0 man! place not thy confidence in this
present world! '�Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,
x. p. 40.
An actual millionaire of our time, a respected
member of parliament on the liberal side, conversing
confidently some years ago with a popular authoress,
stated that he had once been a clerk in Liverpool,
with forty pounds a year, living in a house of four
small apartments; and he was fully of belief that he
enjoyed greater happiness then, than he has since done
in what must appear to the outer world as the most
superbly fortunate and luxurious circumstances.
Much has been said, first and last, by sages,
preachers, and poets, about happiness and its
unattainableness here below; but, after all, there
remains something to be done�a summing up for the
jury, as it were. God certainly has not arranged that
any such highly intelligent being as man should be
perfectly happy; we have so many faculties to be
exercised, so many desires and tastes calling for
their several gratifications, and so many and so
critical are the circumstances of relation in which
those stand towards the outer world, that such a state
never can be fully attained. But that approaches may
be made to happiness, that by certain conduct we may
secure many innocent gratifications, and avoid many
painful experiences, is just as true. A harmonious
exorcise of the faculties in subjection. to
conscientiousness and benevolence�something to be
always working at, something to be always hoping
for�under the guidance of reason, so as to avoid
over-carefulness on the one hand and over-sanguineness
on the other�these, attended by a regard to the
preservation of that health of body on which health of
mind so much depends, will assuredly bring us as near
to happiness as Providence, for the keeping of us in
activity, has intended we should ever go; and that is
all but up to the ideal point. Whore, after an active
life, the apparently successful man proclaims his
having altogether failed to secure happiness, we may
be very sure there has been some strange inconsistency
in his expectations, some undue straining in a wrong
direction, some want of stimulus to the needful
activity, some pervading jar between him and his life
relations, or that he has been tempted into acts and
positions which leave a sting in the mind.
Solomn Thoughts for
the New-Year Day by Southbey
Come, melancholy Moraliser, come!
Gather with me the dark and wintry wreath;
With me engarland now
The Sepulchre of Time;
Come, Moraliser, to the funeral song!
I pour the
dirge of the Departed Days;
For well the funeral song
Befits this solemn hour.
But hark! even now the merry bells ring round
With
clamorous joy to welcome in this day,
This consecrated
day,
To mirth and indolence.
Mortal! whilst Fortune with benignant hand
Fills to
the brim thy cup of happiness,
Whilst her unclouded
sun
Ilumes thy summer day,
Canst thou rejoice�rejoice that Time flies fast?
That night shall shadow soon thy summer sun?
That
swift the stream of Years
Rolls to eternity?
If thou hast wealth to gratify each wish,
If pow'r be thine, remember what thou art--
Remember
thou art Man,
And Death thine heritage!
Hast thou known Love? does beauty's better sun
Cheer thy fond heart with no capricious smile,
Her eye
all eloquence,
Her voice all harmony?
Oh! state of happiness! hark how the gale
Moans
deep and hollow o'er the leafless grove:
Winter is
dark and cold
Where now the charms of spring?
Sayst thou that Fancy paints the future scene
In hues too sombrous? that the dark-stoled
Maul
With stern and frowning front
Appals the shuddering soul?
And wouldst thou bid me court her fairy form,
When,
as she sports her in some happier mood,
Her many-coloured
robes
Dance varying to the sun?
Ah! vainly does the Pilgrim, whose long road
Leads
o'er the barren mountain's storm-vexed height,
With anxious gaze survey
The fruitful far-off vale.
Oh! there are those who love the pensive song,
To
whom all sounds of mirth are dissonant!
There are who
at this hour
Will love to contemplate!
For hopeless sorrow hail the lapse of Time,
Rejoicing when the fading orb of day
Is sunk again in
night,
That one day more is gone!
And he who bears Affliction's heavy load
With
patient piety, well pleased he knows
The World a
pilgrimage,
The Grave the inn of rest!
New-Years Gifts
The custom of making presents on New-Year's Day
has, as far as regards the intercourse of the adult
population, become almost if not entirely obsolete.
Presents are generally pleasant to the receiver on any
day of the year, and are still made, but not on this
day especially. The practice on New-Year's Day is now
limited to gifts made by parents to their children, or
by the elder collateral members of a family to the
younger; but the old custom, which has been gradually,
like the drinking of healths, falling into disuse in
England, is still in full force in France, as will
presently be more particularly adverted to.
The practice of making presents on New-Year's Day
was, no doubt, derived from the Romans. Suetonius and
Tacitus both mention it. Claudius prohibited demanding
presents except on this day. Rand, in his Popular
Antiquities, observes, on the authority of Bishop Stillingfleet, that the Saxons
kept the festival of
the New Year with more than ordinary feasting and
jollity, and with the presenting of New-Year's gifts
to each other. Fosbroke notices the continuation of
the practice during the middle ages; and Ellis, in his
additions to Brand, quotes Matthew Paris to shew that
Henry III extorted New-Year's gifts from his
subjects.
The New-Year's gifts presented by individuals to
each other were suited to sex, rank, situation, and
circumstances. From Bishop Hall's Satires (1598), it
appears that the usual gifts of tenants in the country
to their landlords was a capon; and Cowley, addressing
the same class of society, says:
"When with low legs and in an humble guise
Ye
offered up a capon-sacrifice
Unto his worship at the
New-Year's tide.'
Ben Jonson, in his Masque of Christmas, among other
characters introduces 'New-Year's Gift in a blue
coat, serving-man like, with an orange, and a sprig of
rosemary on his head, his hat full of brooches, with a
collar of gingerbread, his torch-bearer carrying a marchpane, with a bottle of
wine on either arm.' An
orange stuck with cloves was a common present, and is
explained by Lupton, who says that the flavour of wine
is improved, and the wine itself preserved from
mouldiness, by an orange or lemon stuck with cloves
being hung within the vessel, so as not to touch the
liquor.
Gloves were customary New-Year's gifts. They were
formerly a more expensive article than they are at
present, and occasionally a sum of money was given
instead, which was called 'glove-money: Presents were
of course made to persons in authority to secure favour, and too often were
accepted by magistrates and
judges. Sir Thomas More having, as lord chancellor,
decided a cause in favour of a lady with the
unattractive name of Croaker, on time ensuing
New-Year's Day she sent him a pair of gloves with
forty of the gold coins called an angel in them. Sir
Thomas returned the gold with the following note: 'Mistress, since it were against
good manners to refuse
your New-Year's gift, I am content to take your
gloves, but as for the lining I utterly refuse it.'
When pins were first invented and brought into use
about the beginning of the sixteenth century, they
were a New-Year's gift very acceptable to ladies, and
money given for the purchase of them was called 'pin-money,' an expression which has been extended to a
sum of money secured by a husband on his marriage for
the private expenses of his wife. Pins made of metal,
in their present form, must have been in use some time
previous to 1543, in which year a statute was passed
(35 Hen. VIII. c. 6), entitled 'An Acte for the true
making of Pynnes,' in which it was enacted that the
price charged should not exceed 6s. 8d. a thousand.
Pins were previously made of boxwood, bone, and
silver, for the richer classes; those used by the poor
were of common wood�in fact, skewers.
The custom of presenting New-Year's gifts to the
sovereigns of England may be traced back to the time
of Henry VI. In Rymer's Faedera, vol. x. p. 387, a
list is given of gifts received by the king between
Christmas Day and February 4, 1428, consisting of sums
of 40s., 20s., 13s. 4d., 10s., 6s. 8d., and 3s. 4d.
A manuscript roll of the public revenue of the
fifth year of manuscript roll of the public revenue of
the fifth year of Edward VI has an entry of rewards
given on New-Year's Day to the king's officers and
servants, amounting to �155, 5s., and also of sums
given to the servants of those who presented
New-Year's gifts to the king.
A similar roll has been preserved of the reign of
Philip and Mary. The Lord Cardinal Pole gave a
'saulte,'
with a cover of silver and gilt, having a stone
therein much enamelled of the story of Job; and
received a pair of gilt silver pots, weighing 1433/4
ounces. The queen's sister, the Lady Elizabeth, gave
the fore part of a kyrtell, with a pair of sleeves of
cloth of silver, richly embroidered over with Venice
silver, and rayed with silver and black silk; and
received three gilt silver bowls, weighing 132 ounces.
Other gifts were�a sacrament cloth; a cup of crystal;
a lute in a case, covered with black silk and gold,
with two little round tables, the one of the phisnamy
of the emperor and the king's majesty, the other of
the king of Bohemia and his wife. Other gifts
consisted of hosen of Garnsey-making, fruits,
sugar-loaves, gloves, Turkey hens, a fat goose and
capon, two swans, two fat oxen, conserves, rose-water,
and other articles.
During the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the custom of
presenting Now-Year's gifts to the sovereign was
carried to an extravagant height. The queen delighted
in gorgeous dresses, in jewellery, in all kinds of
ornaments for her person and palaces, and in purses
filled with gold coin. The gifts regularly presented
to her were of great value. An exact and descriptive
inventory of them was made every year on a roll, which
was signed by the queen herself, and by the proper
officers. Nichols, in his Progresses of Queen
Elizabeth, has given an accurate transcript of five of
these rolls. The presents were made by the great
officers of state, peers and peeresses, bishops,
knights and their ladies, gentlemen and gentlewomen,
physicians, apothecaries, and others of lower grade,
down to her majesty's dustman. The presents consisted
of sums of money, costly articles of ornament for the
queen's person or apartments, caskets studded with
precious stones, valuable necklaces, bracelets, gowns,
embroidered mantles, smocks, petticoats,
looking-glasses, fans, silk stockings, and a great
variety of other articles.
Howell, in his History of
the World, mentions that 'Queen Elizabeth, in 1561,
was presented with a pair of black silk knit stockings
by her silk-woman, Mrs. Montague, and thence-forth she
never wore cloth hose any more.' The value of the
gifts in each year cannot be ascertained, but some
estimate may be made of it from the presents of gilt
plate which were in all instances given in return by
the queen; an exact account having been entered on the
roll of the weight of the plate which each individual
received in return for his gift. The total weight in
1577-8 amounted to 5882 ounces. The largest sum of
money given by any temporal lord was �20; but the
Archbishop of Canterbury gave �40, the Archbishop of
York �30, and other spiritual lords �20 or �10. The
total amount in the year 1561-2 of money gifts was
�1262, 11s. 8d. The queen's wardrobe and jewellery
must have been principally supplied from her
New-Year's gifts.
The Earl of Leicester's New-Year's gifts exceeded
those of any other nobleman in costliness and
elaborate workmanship. The description of the gift of
1571-2 may be given as a specimen:
'One armlet, or shakell of gold, all over fairely garnished with
rubyes and dyamondes, haveing in the closing thearof a
clocke, and in the fore part of the same a fayre
lozengie dyamonde without a foyle, hanging thearat a
round juell fully garnished with dyamondes, and perle
pendant, weying 11 oz. qu. dim., and farthing golde
weight: in a case of purple vellate all over
embranderid with Venice golde, and lyned with greeve
vellat.'
In the reign of James I the money gifts seem to
have been continued for some time, but the ornamental
articles presented appear to have been few and of
small value. In January 1601,
Sir Dudley Carleton, in
a letter to Mr. Winwood, observes:
'New-Year's Day passed without any solemnity, and
the accustomed present of the purse and gold was hard
to be had without asking.'
Mr. Nichols, in a note on this passage, observes:
'During the reigns of King Edward VI., Queen Mary,
and Queen Elizabeth, the ceremony of giving and
receiving New-Year's gifts at Court, which had long
before been customary, was never omitted, and it was
continued at least in the early years of King James;
but I have never met with a roll of those gifts
similar to the several specimens of them in the
Progresses of Queen Elizabeth.'
He afterwards,
however, met with such a roll, which he has copied,
and in a note attached to the commencement of the
roll, be makes the following remarks:
'Since the note
in that page [471 of vol. i., Progresses of James I]
was printed, the roll here accurately transcribed has
been purchased by the trustees of the British Museum,
from Mr. Rodd, book-seller of Great Newport Street, in
whose catalogue for 1824 it is mentioned. It is above
ten feet in length; and, like the five printed in
Queen Elizabeth's "Progresses," exhibits the gifts to
the king on one side, and those from his majesty on
the other, both sides being signed by the royal hand
at top and bottom. The gifts certainly cannot compete
in point of curiosity with those of either Queen
Mary's or Queen Elizabeth's reign. Instead of curious
articles of dress, rich jewels, &c., nothing was given
by the nobility but gold coin.'
The gifts from the nobility and prelates amounted
altogether to �1293, 13s. 4d. The remainder were from
per-sons who held some office about the king or court,
and were generally articles of small value. The Duke
of Lennox and the Archbishop of Canterbury gave each
�40; all other temporal lords, �20 or E10; and the
other spiritual lords, �30, �20, �13, 6s. 8d., or �10.
The Duke of Lennox received 50 ounces of plate, the
Arch-bishop of Canterbury 55 ounces; those who gave
�20 received about 30 ounces, and for smaller sums the
return-gift was in a similar proportion.
No rolls, nor indeed any notices, seem to have been
preserved of New-Year's gifts presented to Charles I.,
though probably there were such. The custom, no doubt,
ceased entirely during the Commonwealth, and was never
afterwards revived, at least to any extent worthy of
notice. Mr. Nichols mentions that the last remains of
the custom at court consisted in placing a crown-piece
under the plate of each of the chaplains in waiting on
New-Year's Day, and that this custom had ceased early
in the nineteenth century.
There is a pleasant story of a New-Year's gift in
the reign of King Charles I, in which
the court
jester, Archy Armstrong, figures as for once not the
maker, but the victim of a jest. Coming on that morn
to a nobleman to bid him good-morrow, Archy received a
few gold pieces; which, however, falling short of his
expectations in amount, he shook discontentedly in his
hand, muttering that they were too light. The donor
said: 'Prithee, then, Archy, let me see them again;
and, by the way, there is one of them which I would be
loth to part with.' Archy, expecting to get a larger
gift, returned the pieces to his lordship, who put
them in his pocket, with the remark: 'I once gave my
money into the hands of a fool, who had not the wit to
keep it.'�Banquet of Jests, 1634
It cannot be said that the custom of giving
presents to superiors was a very rational one: one can
even imagine it to have been something rather
oppressive� 'a custom more honoured in the breach than
the observance.' Yet Robert
Herrick seems to have
found no difficulty in bringing the smiles of his
cheerful muse to bear upon it. It must be admitted,
indeed, that the author of the
Hesperides made his
poem the gift. Thus it is he addresses Sir
Simon
Steward in:
'A jolly
Verse, crowned with ivy and with holly;
That tells
of winter's tales and mirth,
That milkmaids make about
the hearth;
Of Christmas' sports, the wassail howl,
That's tost up after fox-i'-th'-hole;
Of
blind-man-buff, and of the care
That young men have to
shoe the mare;
Of twelfth-tide cakes, of pease and
beaus,
Wherewith ye make those merry scenes;
Of
crackling laurel, which fore-sounds
A plenteous
harvest to your grounds;
Of those, and each like
things, for shift,
We send, instead of New Year's gift.
Read then, and when your faces shine
With buxom
meat and cap'ring wine,
Remember us in cups full crown'd,
And let our city-health go round.
Then, as ye
sit about your embers,
Call not to mind the fled
Decembers;
But think on these, that are t' appear
As
daughters to the instant year;
And to the bagpipes all
address,
Till sleep take place of weariness.
And thus throughout, with Christmas plays,
Frolic
the full twelve holidays.'
The custom of giving of presents among relatives
and friends is much declined in England, but is still
kept up with surprising vigor in Paris, where the day
is especially recognized from this circumstance as
Le
Jour d' Etrennes. Parents then bestow portions on
their children, brothers on their sisters, and
husbands make settlements on their wives. The mere
externals of the day, as observed in Paris, are of a
striking character: they were described as follows in
an English journal, as observed in the year 1824,
while as yet the restored Bourbon reigned in France:
'Carriages,' says this writer, 'may be seen rolling
through the streets with cargoes of bon-bons,
souvenirs, and the variety of etceteras with which
little children and grown up children are bribed into
good humour; and here and there pastrycooks are to be
met with, carrying upon boards enormous temples,
pagodas, churches, and playhouses, made of fine flour
and sugar, and the embellishments which render French
pastry so inviting. But there is one street in Paris
to which a New-Year's Day is a whole year's
fortune�this is the Rue des Lombards, where the
wholesale confectioners reside; for in Paris every
trade and profession has its peculiar quarter. For
several days preceding the 1st of January, this
street is completely blocked up by carts and wagons
laden with cases of sweetmeats for the provinces.
These are of every form and description which the most
singular fancy could imagine; bunches of carrots,
green peas, hoots and shoes, lobsters and crabs, hats,
books, musical instruments, gridirons, frying-pans,
and sauce-pans; all made of sugar, and coloured to
imitate reality, and all made with a hollow within to
hold the bon-bons.
The most prevailing device is what
is called a cornet; that is, a little cone ornamented
in different ways, with a bag to draw over the large
end, and close it up. In these things, the prices of
which vary from one franc (tenpenee) to fifty, the
bon-bons are presented by those who choose to be at
the expense of them, and by those who do not, they are
only wrapped in a piece of paper; but bon-bons, in
some way or other, must be presented. It would not,
perhaps, be an exaggeration to state that the amount
expended for presents on New-Year's Day in Paris, for
sweet-meats alone, exceeds 500,000 francs, or �20,000
sterling. Jewellery is also sold to a very large
amount, and the fancy articles exported in the first
week of the year to England and other countries, is
computed at one-fourth of the sale during the
twelvemonths. In Paris, it is by no means uncommon for
a man of 8000 or 10,000 francs a year, to make
presents on New-Year's Day which cost him a fifteenth
part of his income. No person able to give must on
this day pay a visit empty-handed.
Everybody accepts,
and every man gives according to the means which he
possesses. Females alone are excepted from the charge
of giving. A pretty woman, respectably connected, may
reckon her New-Year's presents at something
considerable. Gowns, jewellery, gloves, stockings, and
artificial flowers fill her drawing-room: for in Paris
it is a custom to display all the gifts, in order to
excite emulation, and to obtain as much as possible.
At the palace, the New-Year's Day is a complete jour
de fete. Every branch of the royal family is then
expected to make handsome presents to the king. For
the six months preceding January 1824, the female
branches were busily occupied in preparing presents of
their own manufacture, which would fill at least two
common-sized wagons.
The Duchess de Berri painted an
entire room of japanned panels, to be set up in the
palace, and the Duchess of Orleans prepared an elegant
screen. An English gentleman, who was admitted
suddenly into the presence of the Duchess de Berri two
months before, found her and three of her maids of
honour, lying on the carpet, painting the legs of a
set of chairs, which were intended for the king. The
day commences with the Parisians, at an early hour, by
the interchange of their visits and bon-bons. The
nearest relations are visited first, until the
furthest in blood have had their calls; then friends
and acquaintances. The conflict to anticipate each
other's calls, occasions the most agreeable and
whimsical scenes among these proficients in polite
attentions. In these visits, and in gossiping at the
confectioners' shops, which are the great lounge for
the occasion, the morning of New-Year's Day is passed;
a dinner is given by some member of the family to all
the rest, and the evening concludes, like Christmas
Day, with cards, dancing, or any other amusement that
may be preferred.'
HOBSON, THE CAMBRIDGE CARRIER
Died, January 1, 1630-1, Thomas Hobson, of
Cambridge, the celebrated University carrier, who had
the honour of two epitaphs written upon him by Milton.
He was born in or about 1514; his father was a
carrier, and he bequeathed to him 'the team ware,
with which he now goeth, that is to say, the cart and
eight horses,' harness, nag, &c. After his father's
death, he continued the business of a carrier with
great success; a considerable profit was then made by
carrying letters, which the University of Cambridge
licensed persons to do, before and after the
introduction of the post-office system.
The old man
for many years passed monthly with his team between
his own home in Cambridge, and the Bull Inn in Bishopsgate-street and back again,
conveying both
packages and human beings. He is also said to have
been the first person in the kingdom who let horses
for hire, and the scrupulous pertinacity with which he
refused to allow any horse to be taken from his
stables except in its proper turn, has given him a
kind of celebrity. If the horse he offered to his
customer was objected to, he curtly replied, 'This or
none;' and 'Hobson's choice�this or
none,' became a
proverb, which it is to this day. Steele, in the
Spectator, No. 509, however, considers the proverb to
be 'by vulgar error taken and used when a man is
reduced to an extremity, whereas the propriety of the
maxim is to use it when you would say, There is
plenty, but you must make such a choice as not to hurt
another who is to come after you.' 'He lived in
Cam-bridge, and observing that the scholars rid hard,
his manner was to keep a large stable of horses, with
boots, bridles, and whips, to furnish the gentlemen at
once, without going from college to college to
borrow.' He used to tell the scholars they would '
come time enough to London if they did not ride too
fast.' By his rule of taking the horse which stood
next the stable-door, 'every customer,' says Steele,
'was alike well served according to his chance, and
every horse ridden with the same justice. This
memorable man stands drawn in fresco at an inn (which
he used) in Bishopsgate-street, with an hundred pound
bag under his arm.'
Hobson grew rich by his business: in 1604, he
contributed �50 to the loan to King James I. In 1626,
he gave a large Bible to the church of St. Benedict,
in which parish he resided. He became possessed of
several manors, and, in 1628, gave to the University
and town the site of the Spinning House, or 'Hobson's
Workhouse.'
In 1630, Hobson's visits to London were suspended
by order of the authorities, on account of the plague
being in London; and it was during this cessation from
business that he died. Milton, in one of his epitaphs
on him, quaintly adverts to this diet, remarking that
Death would never have hit him had he continued
dodging it backwards and forwards between Cambridge
and the Bull.
Hobson was twice married. By his first wife he had
eight children, and he survived his second wife. He
bequeathed considerable property to his family; money
to the corporation, and the profits of certain
pasture-land (now the site of Downing College) towards
the maintenance and heightening of the conduit in
Cambridge. He also left money to the poor of
Cambridge, Chesterton, Waterbeach, Cottenham, and
Bunting-ford, of which latter place he is believed to
have been a native. He was buried in the chancel of
Benedict's church, but no monument or inscription
marks the spot. In one of Milton's humorous epitaphs
on him, reference is made to his cart and wain, which
proves that there is no foundation for the popular
opinion that Hobson carried on his business by means
of packhorses. In the second epitaph it is amusing to
hear the author of England's solemn epic indulging in
drolleries and puns regarding poor Hobson, the
carrier:
'Rest, that gives all men life, gave him his
death,
And too much breathing put him out of breath;
Nor were it contradiction to affirm
Too long vacation hastened on his term.
Merely to drive the time away he sickened,
Fainted,
and died, nor would with all be quickened.
Ease was
his chief disease; and, to judge right,
He died for
weariness that his cart went light:
His leisure told
him that his time was conic, And lack of load made his
life burdensome: Obedient to the Moon, he spent his
date
In course reciprocal, and had his Into
Linked to the mutual flowing of the seas;
Yet, strange to think, his wain was his increase.
His letters are delivered all and gone,
Only remains this superscription.'
Several memorials of the benevolent old carrier,
who is believed to have reached his eighty-fifth year,
are preserved. There was formerly a picture of him at
Anglesey Abbey; and Roger Yorke had another, supposed
to have belonged to Mrs. Katherine Pepys, who, in her
will dated 1700, bequeathed 'old Mr. Hobson's
picture.' His saddle and bridle were preserved in the
town-hall at Cambridge during the present century. A
public-house in the town was called ' Old Hobson,' and
another 'Hobson's House;' but he is traditionally said
to have resided at the south-west corner of Pease
Hill, and the site of the two adjoining houses were
his stables. Even in his life-time his popularity must
have been great, as in 1617 was published a quarto
tract, entitled 'Hobson's Horseload of Letters, or
Precedent for Epistles of Business, &c.'
The name of Hobson has been given to a street in
Cambridge, 'in which have long resided Messrs Swann
and Sons, carriers, who possess a curious portrait of
Hobson, mounted on a stately black nag. This was
preserved for many years at Hobson's London inn, the
Bull, in Bishopsgate Street.'�Cooper's Annals of
Cambridge, vol. iii. p. 236.
There are several engraved portraits of Hobson:
that by John Payne, who died about 1648, represents
Hobson in a cloak, grasping a bag of money, and has
these lines underneath:
'Laugh not to see so plaine a man in print,
The shadow's homely, yet there's something in 't.
Witness the Bagg he wears (though seeming pore),
The
fertile Mother of a thousand more:
He was a thriving Man, through lawful gain,
And
wealthy grew by warrantable faime.
Men laugh at them that spend, not them that
gather,
Like thriving sonnes of such a thrifty
Father.'
This print is, most probably, from the fresco
figure at the Bull Inn, which, in Chalmers's English
Poets, 1810, is stated as 'lately to be seen,' but it
has long since disappeared; and the Bull is more
modernised than either the Green Dragon or the Four
Swans inns, at a few houses distant: the Green Dragon
has its outer galleries remaining, but modernised and
inclosed with glass; the Four Swans is still more
perfect, and is, perhaps, the most entire galleried
inn which remains in the metropolis, and shews how
well adapted were the inns of old for the
representation of stage plays. That the Bull was
indeed for this purpose, we have evidence�the yard
having supplied a stage to our early actors before
James Burbage and his fellows obtained a patent from
Queen Elizabeth for erecting a permanent building for
theatrical entertainments. Tarlton often played
here.�Collier's Annals, vol. iii. p. 291, and
Tarlton's Jests, by Halliwell, pp. 13, 14. Anthony
Bacon (the brother of Francis Bacon)
lived in Bishopsgate
Street, not far from the Bull Inn, to the great
annoyance of his mother, who dreaded that the plays
and interludes acted at the Bull might corrupt his
servants.
On the whole, we obtain a pleasing idea of Hobson,
as an honest, painstaking man; a little arbitrary
perhaps, but full of sound principle, and essentially
a well-wisher to his species.
