The Fragrant Weed

If you are interested in social history then you probably have got a few subjects that rings a bell every time you come across them., Especially if you come across a quote or a story out of context. One of mine is smoking: about which I would really like to write a social history. I was reminded of this while reading Roy & Lesley Adkin's excellent Jack Tar: life in Nelson's Navy (Little, Brown, 2008) as part of my background reading for a book of tracing Royal Naval ancestors I'm writing for Pen & Sword . They devote a few pages to tobacco, which was then generally chewed rather than smoked on board. But some seamen were devoted to their pipes, while others smoked rum-soaked tobacco in periques or pricks, basically a foot long cigar.
When I was doing my PhD on charities of the First World War, the tobacco habit had become ingrained among soldiers of all ranks. Despite some slight official concern that smoking affected the men's health, tobacco was encouraged for it calmed nerves and reduced the appetite. As a result it is rare to find a group photo of soldiers without the majority of men having a cigarette in their hands. By far the most popular comfort provided by war charities was cigarettes and tobacco: smokes as they were generally called.  The largest newspaper appeal was the Weekly Despatch Tobacco Fund which had collected £100,000 by the middle of 1916. Tens of millions of cigarettes were sent to the front.  The Comforts Fund of the 1st London Regiment alone sent 189,000 packets of cigarettes during the war.
Within days of the declaration of war letters were appearing in The Times appealing for smokes for the troops.  One reader Septimus Bright appealed "to private persons and firms for pouches and other smokers requisites, new and old, among them old pipes which every woman is anxious to clear out of the caches of her menfolk." But so far as I can, tell few people did.  
And perhaps ironically a proportion of the men who became addicted to smoking in the Great War developed lung cancer in the 1950s. These were the men whose wrecked lungs and breathing led scientists to realise how bad smoking actually was. They had survived the trenches but were now felled by something which had once given them strength and pleasure.

Strawberry Hill House

Yesterday morning I went on a press preview trip to Strawberry Hill House in Twickenham. The house was built by the Georgian aesthete and writer Horace Walpole between 1747 and his death in 1797 (think Stephen Fry plus britches). Its history until very recently has not been a happy one. In 1990s it was placed on the list of the world's most endangered buildings but a trust was established a few years ago and has raised £9m - mainly from the Lottery and the World Monuments Fund - to restore the house to how it looked at the end of the 18th century. It is still very much work in progress. Only part of the house will be reopened on 2 October, but what will be accessible will be stunning. Strawberry Hill was virtually the first building to be built in a Gothic style since medieval times and had a profound influence on 19th century architecture. There's quite a lot of references to his family's rather grand genealogy (his father had been Prime Minister) - indeed he once called it "The castle I am building for my ancestors".  Unfortunately there is nothing about the servants who kept the place running. The house was designed in part at least a tourist attraction. Visitors - known to Walpole as his "customers" - would be shown around by the housekeeper who would expect a large tip for her troubles. This was not unusual at other country houses at the time. And it is nice to think that you do the same thing today. You join a group which departs at set times when the House is open. Details at www.strawberryhillhouse.org.uk.