If Jonas Hanway had lived before Fuller, he certainly would have been enshrined among his ‘Worthies;’ and it is astonishing to find how comparatively ignorant of him and his works are even well-read men. Ask one about him, and he will reply that he was a philanthropist, but he will hardly be able to say in what way he was philanthropic: ask another, and the reply will be that he was the man who introduced umbrellas into England—but it is very questionable if he could tell whence he got the umbrella to introduce. But in his time he was a man of mark, and his memory deserves more than a short notice in ‘Chalmers,’ the ‘Biographie Universelle,’ or any other biographical dictionary.

He was born at Portsmouth on the 12th of August, 1712, in the reign of ‘good Queen Anne.’ History is silent as to his pedigree, save and except that his father was connected with the navy, and was for some years store-keeper to the dockyard at Portsmouth, and his uncle by the father’s side was a Major John Hanway, who translated some odes of Horace, &c. His father died whilst Jonas was still a boy, and Mrs. Hanway had much trouble to bring up her young family, who all turned out well, and were prosperous in after life: one son, Thomas, filling the post of commander-in-chief of his Majesty’s ships at Plymouth, and afterwards commissioner of the dockyard at Chatham.

On his father’s death, his mother removed to London, where, somehow or other, she brought up her children by her own exertions, and with such care and affection that Jonas never spoke, or wrote, of his mother but in terms of the highest reverence and gratitude. He was sent to school, where he was not only educated commercially, but classically. Still, he had his bread to win, and, when he was seventeen years of age, he was sent to Lisbon, which he reached June, 1729, and was bound apprentice to a merchant, under whose auspices he developed the business qualities which afterwards stood him in good stead. At the end of his apprenticeship he set up in business for himself in Lisbon, but soon removed to the wider field of London. What pursuit he followed there, neither he, nor any biographer of his, has told us, but in 1743 he accepted the offer of a partnership in Mr. Dingley’s house at St. Petersburg.

What a difference in the voyage from London to St. Petersburg, then and now! Now, overland: it only takes two days and a half.

Then, in April, 1743, he embarked on the Thames in a crazy old tub, bound for Riga, and got to Elsinore in May. As everything then was done in a leisurely manner, they stopped there for some days, arriving at Riga by the end of May, having taken twenty-six days to go from Elsinore to Riga, now done by steam, under fair conditions, in two days.

Here he found, as most people do, the Russian spring as hot as he ever remembered summer in Portugal, and was most hospitably entertained by the British factors. But Russia was at war with Sweden, and, although he had plenty of letters of recommendation, the Governor of Riga would not allow him to proceed on his journey, until he had communicated with the authorities at St. Petersburg, thus causing a delay of a fortnight, and he did not leave until the 7th of June. His sojourn at Riga, however, was not lost, for he kept his eyes open, and looked about him.

Travelling by post in Russia, even now, is not a luxury; it must have been ten times worse then, when he started on his journey in his sleeping-wagon, which was ‘made of leather, resembling a cradle, and hung upon braces,’ and his report of his journey was that ‘the post-horses are exceedingly bad, but as the stages are short, and the houses clean, the inconvenience is supportable.’ He made the journey in four days.

On his arrival, he soon set to work on the business that he came out to execute, namely, the opening of trade through the Caspian Sea to Persia, a journey which involved crossing Russia in Europe from the north-west to the south-east. This route had already been trodden by a sailor named Elton, who had spent some years among the nomadic Tartar tribes, and had, in 1739, descended the Volga with a cargo of goods, intending to go to Mesched; but he sold them before he reached there, at Resched, for a good price, and obtained leave to trade for the future. He returned to St. Petersburg, went again to Persia, and remained there in the service of Nadir Shah. It was to supply his defection that Jonas Hanway went out to Russia.

On the 10th of September, 1743, he set out on his veritably perilous journey, and it is really worth while to describe the despatch of goods in Russia at that day. ‘In Russia carriages for merchandize are drawn only by one horse. These vehicles are nine or ten feet long, and two or three broad, and are principally composed of two strong poles, supported by four wheels, of near an equal size, and about as high as the fore wheels of our ordinary coaches, but made very slight, many of the rounds of the wheels are of a single piece of wood, and open, in one part, for near an inch, and some of them are not shod with iron.

‘The first care is to lay the bales as high as the cart will admit on a bed of mats of the thickest sort. Besides the original package, which is calculated to stand the weather, the bales are usually covered with very thick mats, and over these other mats are laid to prevent the friction of the ropes; lastly, there is another covering of mats, in the want of raw cowhides, which are always best to defend goods from rain, or from the snow, which, when it melts, is yet more penetrating. Each bale is sealed up with a leaden seal, to prevent its being opened on the road, or any of the goods vended in the Country, that is, when they are intended for Persia....

‘The Caravans generally set out about twelve, both in the night and day, except in the heat of summer. In the winter, between St. Petersburg and Moscow, they usually travel seventy wersts78 (about forty-seven English miles) in twenty-four hours, but from Moscow to Zaritzen only forty or fifty wersts: in summer their stages are shorter. Great part of the last-mentioned road being through an uninhabited country, makes the Carriers cautious not to jade their horses. Every time they set out, the conductors ought to count the loads. When necessity requires that the Caravan should be drawn within fences, or into yards, the heads of the waggons ought to stand towards the door in regular order, and a guard, who will keep a better watch than an ordinary carrier, should be set over it: for want of this precaution, whole Caravans in Russia have been sometimes consumed by fire. It is most eligible to stop in the field, where the usual method is to form the Carriages into a ring, and bring the horses, as well as the men, within it, always observing to keep in such a position as best to prevent an attack, or repulse an enemy.

‘The Khalmucks on the banks of the Volga are ever ready to embrace an opportunity of plundering and destroying passengers; therefore, when there is any occasion to travel on those banks, which should be avoided as much as possible, an advance guard of at least four Cossacks is of great use, especially to patrole in the night; it is not often practised, but I found it indispensably necessary when I travelled on those banks....

‘A hundred carriages take up two-thirds of a mile in length, so that, when no horseman is at hand to spread the alarm, the rear might be easily carried off. They have not even a trumpet, horn, or other instrument for this purpose; they trust in providence, and think any care of this kind unnecessary, though the neglect has sometimes proved of fatal consequence.’

In this primitive style he set forth on his trading venture to Persia, taking with him a clerk, a Russian, as menial servant, a Tartar boy, and a soldier, by way of guard. He had ‘a convenient sleeping-waggon’ for himself, and another for his clerk—the Russ, the Tartar, and the soldier evidently having to shift as the drivers of the twenty loads of goods (consisting of thirty-seven bales of English cloth) did. It is interesting to follow out this little venture. The caravan started on the 1st of September, 1743, and ten days afterwards he set out to join it, which he did at Tver, arriving at Moscow on the 20th of September.

Here he looked about him, saw the Great Bell, &c. received no little hospitality, and repaired the defects of his caravan, starting again on the 24th of September, and his instructions to his limited suite were to avoid all occasion of dispute, and, should such unfortunately arise, he should be informed of it, in order that he might deal with it according to the best of his judgment. But he went among the Tartars without any misadventure, noting some very curious facts, until he came to Tzaritzin, on the Volga, whence he proposed to commence his somewhat perilous journey by water, to the Caspian Sea. He arrived at Tzaritzin on the 9th of October, but, as there was not the same pushing and driving in business then as now, he stopped there for a month to recruit, and hire a vessel. He succeeded in getting one, such a thing as it was, but then he only paid a nominal sum for it. As he justly observes: ‘The reader will imagine that forty roubles79 cannot purchase a good vessel; however, this price produced the best I could find. Their decks were only loose pieces of the barks of trees; they have no knees, and but few beams: hardly any pitch or tar is used, in place of it are long slips of bark, which they nail over the gaping seams, to prevent the loose and bad corking (caulking) from falling out. Instead of iron bolts, they have spikes of deal with round heads. The method of keeping them clear of water is by a large scoop, which is suspended by the beam over the well-way, and through a scuttle at a proper height they scoop out the water with great facility.’

He bought two of these A.1. vessels, and put a crew of five fishermen on board each, besides his own suite, and, because of the pirates who infested those waters, he hired a guard of six soldiers. By-the-way, they had a rough and ready way of dealing with these pirates when they did catch them. ‘As their cruelties are very great, so is the punishment inflicted on them when they are taken. A float is built, in size according to the number of delinquents, and a gallows erected on it, to contain a sufficient number of iron hooks, on which they are hung alive, by the ribs. The float is launched into the stream, with labels over their heads, signifying their crimes; and orders are given to all towns and villages on the borders of the river, upon pain of death, not only to afford no relief to any of these wretches, but to push off the float, should it land near them. Sometimes their partners in wickedness meet them, and, if there are any signs of life, take him down, otherwise they shoot them dead; but, if they are catched in these acts of illegal mercy, they are hung up without the ceremony of a trial, as happened about eight years ago. They tell me of one of these miscreants who had the fortune to disengage himself from the hook, and though naked, and trembling with pain and loss of blood, he got ashore. The first object he saw who could afford him any relief was a poor shepherd, whose brains he beat out with a stone, and took his clothes. These malefactors sometimes hang thus three, four, and five days alive. The pain generally produces a raging fever, in which they utter the most horrid imprecations, and implore the relief of water, or other small liquors.’

He was observant, and, on his journey down the Volga, he noted many things which throw much light on the social life in Russia of these days. Take for instance the following: ‘The 14th of October I sent letters to my friends, by messengers who are appointed to attend a box of grapes, which is sent from Astrachan to the Empress’s Court every three days during the season. It is carried by two horses, supported in the manner of a litter. The grapes are preserved in sand, but, at best, are ill worth the expense of the conveyance for one thousand two hundred English miles.’

He sailed from Tzaritzin on the 14th of October, and on the 19th of the same month he reached Astrachan, where he was kindly received by Mr. George Thompson, agent to the British merchants trading to Persia; and also by the Russian governor (a quondam page to Peter the Great) who gave him many assurances that every help should be afforded him in his trade with Persia—but candidly informed him what rogues the Armenian traders were: ‘They are the most crafty people in all Asia, and delight in fraud. Let them get fifty per Cent. in a fair way, they are not contented without cheating five, and the five is sweeter than the fifty.’

Lapow, even then, was a recognized institution in Russia, for Hanway observes, ‘The Officers of the the Admiralty and Custom-House of Astrachan have very small salaries, which is the case in all other places in Russia: so that, instead of doing their duty to despatch business, they often seek pretences to protract it, in order to obtain the more considerable presents. Upon these occasions French Brandy, white wine, hats, stockings, ribbons, and such like are acceptable.’ Now-a-days, things are managed in a less cumbrous form. Rouble Notes take the place of gross material—but the Russian Official is unchanged.

Again, ‘Whilst I was busied in getting what informations were necessary, the governor invited me to a feast, at which there were nearly a hundred dishes; here I saw a singular specimen of Russian intemperance, for there were above thirty people who drank to excess, in goblets, a kind of cherry brandy. This feast was made for the birth of his granddaughter, on which occasion the guests presented an offering each according to his rank. This is a civil way of levying a heavy tax on the merchants, and a custom, tho’ not elegant, less absurd than that of some politer countries; for here, without disguise or ceremony, you leave one or two ducats, or some richer present on the lady’s bed, who sits up with great formality to be saluted.’

From Astrachan he went to Yerkie, at the mouth of the Volga, and virtually on the Caspian Sea, whence he set sail on the 22nd of November, arriving at Astrabad Bay on the 18th of December, where his vessel was taken for a pirate, and signal fires were, in consequence, lit on the hill-tops, etc. So he lay at anchor for a few days, employing his men in packing his goods so that they might be easily carried on land; and he gives us a curious insight into the life of sailors of that period.

‘The 25th being Christmas Day, I excused the seamen from the package of cloth, and prevailed on them to hear prayers, and a sermon. English seamen, of all mankind, seem the most indifferent with regard to religious duties; but their indifference is more the effect of want of reflection than the irreligious carelessness of their leaders. It is not to be imagined they would fight less if they prayed more; at least we find the praying warriors in Cromwell’s days fought as if they were sure of becoming saints in heaven. Certain it is our seamen do not entertain the same impressions of religion as the common run of labouring people.’

Hanway had been warned that he must take care of himself at Astrabad; that, probably, he would be robbed, and most certainly cheated; but never having received such treatment, and with his conscious faith of being an honest Englishman, he gave but little heed to the caution, but spent many days on ship-board, making up his merchandize into suitable packages for land carriage, and when he did land, he went in state, on horseback, to visit the governor, taking with him the invariable Oriental present, which, in his case, consisted of fine cloth, and loaves of sugar. He was kindly received by the governor, but soon having experienced the deceit and duplicity of the people, he hurried forward his departure for Mesched, sending ten camel loads of goods in advance. Luckily he did so, for the next day the town was besieged by Turcomans, who wanted to get possession of the Shah’s treasure, then in Astrabad, as well as the English goods, which presented an almost irresistible temptation to them.

Hanway was advised to disguise himself and fly, but he was an Englishman, and had the pluck of his race; so he concluded to stay, in spite of the objurgations and maledictions of some of the inhabitants, who cursed him as being the cause of their misfortunes. The town made but a feeble resistance, and, soon after its fall, Hanway received a visit from the captors, the story of which he thus tells:

‘I had collected my servants in one room, from whence I sent a little boy, a servant, who understood the Turkish language, which is most known to the Khajars, to conduct these hostile visitors to us, and to tell them that, as we were at their mercy, we hoped they would treat us with humanity. They immediately entered, and assured us they did not mean to hurt us; on the contrary, that as soon as their government was established, they would pay me for my goods. They demanded, at the same time, where they were lodged; and informed me that the forty bales which I had sent out of the town some days before, were already in their possession. Mahommed Khan Beg then demanded my purse, which I had prepared with about thirty crowns in gold and silver; he contented himself for the present with counting it, and then returned it to me, demanding if I had any more, for that it would be the worse for me if I concealed any. I thought it warrantable, however, to make an evasive answer, though it was a true one as to the fact; viz., that all the town knew very well that I had been searching for money in exchange for my bill on Mr. Elton, not having sufficient to convey my Caravan to Mesched. As gold can purchase anything except virtue and health, understanding and beauty, I thought it might now administer to our safety. I therefore reserved a purse of one hundred and sixty crowns in gold, apprehending that the skilful application of it might ward off the danger which threatened us; but I afterwards found that our security was in our supposed poverty, for in near three weeks distress, I durst not show a single piece of gold, much less acknowledge that I had saved any money.’

He made up his mind to leave Astrabad as soon as possible, and, having obtained an acknowledgment of the value of his goods, at last set out with an escort of about two dozen armed men, under the command of a Hadji, or a holy man, who had made a pilgrimage to Mecca. Needless to say his escort were a pack of rogues, and it was by sheer good luck, and at some risk, that, at last, he fell in with some officers of the Shah, who were recruiting for forces wherewith to re-conquer Astrabad. They helped him to horses, although he complained of their quality. He got along somehow, although he lost his servants, and at last he reached Langarood, where the renegade Captain Elton lived, seven weeks after he had left Astrabad, and was received by Elton with open arms. Here he stayed some days to recruit, and then pushed on to Reshd.

A few days more of journeying, and he fell in with the Shah’s camp, but failed to have an interview with that exalted potentate. Still his case was brought before Nadir Shah, and, the bill Hanway had received from Mohammed Hassan being produced as evidence, a decree was issued ‘that I should give the particulars of the loss to Behbud Khan, the Shah’s general at Astrabad, who had orders to deliver to me whatever part of the goods might possibly be found, and to restore them in kind, and the deficiency to be paid out of the sequestered estates of the rebels to the last denier. This was not quite the thing which I wished for, because it laid me under a necessity of returning to that wretched place, Astrabad; however, I could not but acknowledge the highest obligation for so signal a mark of justice and clemency.’

This act of justice was somewhat unusual with Nadir Shah, of whose cruelty Hanway gives several examples. As, however, one perhaps outstrips its companions in brutality, I venture to give it in his words. ‘I will give another example of Nadir’s avarice and barbarity, which happened a little before I was in camp. The Shah, having appointed a certain general as governor of a province, imposed an exorbitant tax on it, to be levied in six months: at the expiration of the time the governor was sent for to the camp, and ordered to produce the account. He did so, but it amounted to only half the sum demanded. The Shah called him a rascal; and, telling him he had stolen the other half of the money, ordered the executioner to bastonade him to death: his estates also being confiscated, all his effects fell very short of the demands. The servants of the deceased were then ordered to come into the Shah’s presence, and he inquired of them if there was anything left belonging to their master; to which they answered, Only a dog. He then commanded the dog to be brought before him; and observed that he appeared to be much honester than his master had been; however, that he should be led through the camp from tent to tent, and beaten with sticks, and wherever he expired, the master of such tent should pay the sum deficient. Accordingly the dog was carried to the tents of the ministers, successively, who, hearing the case, immediately gave sums of money, according to their abilities, to procure the removal of the dog: by which the whole sum the Shah demanded was raised in a few hours’ time.’

On the 27th of March they set out on their return journey, accompanied by a small escort; they were detained for some time at Langarood, where Hanway had hoped to find a vessel, as the way by land was insecure. But, although a ship was sighted, she never put in; and the land journey was therefore, perforce, undertaken, and Astrabad was reached on the 16th of May. He saw the Shah’s general, who said ‘the decree must be obeyed.’ Those who had insulted Hanway were most brutally punished—some of his cloth was recovered and given back to him, but there was a difficulty in raising the money for the missing portions, and he was pressed to take payment in women slaves. On his refusal, they begged of him to give them a receipt as if he had been paid, assuring him the money should be forthcoming in a very few days; but the British merchant was too wary to be caught in such a palpable trap. Eventually he got the greater part of it, and with it returned to Langarood, where he waited for some little while, and, at last, he recovered eighty-five per cent. of the value of his goods, according to his own valuation, so that, probably, he made a good sale.

At Langarood he fell ill of a low fever, but was cured by a French missionary, who administered Jesuit’s bark (quinine) to him, and he then set out on his return journey, having invested all his cash in raw silk. He met with no particular adventures, and arrived safely at St. Petersburg on the 1st of January, 1745, ‘having been absent a year and sixteen weeks, in which time I had travelled about four thousand English miles by land.’

In noticing this trip of Hanway’s to the Caspian, it would be a pity if attention were not called to his description of Baku, now coming so much to the front (thanks to the industry and intelligence of the Messrs. Nobel) in providing the world with petroleum. This was the chief shrine of the followers of Zoroaster, who considered light, which was typified by fire, (which is bright both by day and night) as emblematical of all good, and they therefore worshipped Ormuzd, or the good god, whilst they regarded Ahriman, or darkness, as the evil god. Here, near Baku, the soil is so soaked and saturated with petroleum that a fire, natural and never-ceasing, could easily be obtained, and consequently, being perfectly unartificial, was looked upon as the personification of Ormuzd. Hanway writes, ‘The earth round this place, for above two miles, has this surprizing property, that by taking up two or three inches of the surface and applying a live coal, the part which is so uncovered immediately takes fire, almost before the coal touches the earth.... If a cane, or tube even of paper, be set about two inches in the ground, confined and closed with earth below, and the top of it touched with a live coal, and blown upon, immediately a flame issues without hurting either the cane or the paper, provided the edges be covered with clay, and this method they use for light in their houses, which have only the earth for the floor; three or four of these lighted canes will boil water in a pot; and thus they dress their victuals.’

Baku, the seat of this natural symbol of Ormuzd, was then a place of pilgrimage for the Parsees—and it is not so long since that fire-worship there has been discontinued. Mr. Charles Marvin (writing in 1884) commences his most interesting book, ‘The Region of the Eternal Fire,’ thus: ‘A few years ago a solitary figure might have been daily seen on the shore of the Caspian Sea, worshipping a fire springing naturally from the petroleum gases in the ground. The devotee was a Parsee from India, the last of a series of priests who for more than two thousand five hundred years had tended the sacred flame upon the spot. Round about his crumbling temple was rising greasy derricks, and dingy distilleries—symbols of a fresh cult, the worship of mammon—but, absorbed in his devotions, the Parsee took no heed of the intruders. And so time passed on, and the last of the Fire-Worshippers died, and with him perished the flame that was older than history.’

He stayed some time in Russia, but undertook no more arduous journeys. Even when he did leave St. Petersburg, on the 9th of July, 1750, he travelled very leisurely overland, reaching Harwich on the 28th of October, 1750, after an absence from England of nearly eight years. He lived in London in a modest fashion, for his fortune was but modest—yet it was sufficient for him to keep a solo carriage, i.e., only carrying one person, and on its panels was painted a device allusive to his dangers in Persia, especially of a somewhat perilous voyage on the Caspian. It consisted of ‘a man dressed in the Persian habit, just landed in a storm on a rude coast, and leaning on his sword, his countenance calm and resigned. In the background was depicted a boat tossed about by the billows; in front, a shield charged with his arms leaning against a tree, and underneath the motto, in English, Never Despair.’

As a result of his eastern experiences,80 on his return to England he used an umbrella, which at that time for a man to carry was considered somewhat effeminate. He is often credited with having introduced that useful article into England; but it had been generally used by women for fifty years previously—nay, there is in the British Museum (Harl. 630 fol. 15b,) an Anglo-Saxon MS. of the eleventh century—unmistakeably English in its drawing—wherein is an illustration of an umbrella being held (by an attendant) over the head of a king, or nobleman. It is a veritable ‘Sangster,’ and, as far as form goes, it would pass muster now. From this time the use of the umbrella became familiar, and in general use among men—probably because he introduced them of pure silk, whereas hitherto they had been cumbrous and heavy, being made of oiled paper, muslin, or silk.

He had enough to live on, and, as in those days no one cared about making a colossal fortune, he lived contentedly on his competence, and wrote a long description of his travels, which was very well illustrated, and which cost him £700 to produce his first edition of one thousand two hundred copies, after which he disposed of the copyright, and second, third, and fourth editions were published. Still, the climate of Russia had not agreed with him, and he had to go to the then fashionable Spa, Tunbridge Wells, and afterwards to Paris, thence to Brussels, Antwerp, and Amsterdam.

He returned to Tunbridge Wells, where he wrote (in 1753) a treatise against the Naturalisation of the Jews,81 which was a question then being agitated. One can scarcely imagine a man with large sympathies, as was Jonas Hanway, a travelled man, also, of great experience of men, taking the narrow view of such a question of social polity. After a severe fight the Bill was carried (26 Geo. 2) and his Majesty gave his consent on the 7th of June, 1753,82 but the opposition to it was so great that when Parliament next met (15th of November, 1753) the very first business after the address (which only occupied half-an-hour or so—a valuable hint to present M.P.’s) was to bring in a bill repealing the privilege of Naturalization to the Jews. Popular clamour on its behalf was senseless, as it usually is, but it was too strong to resist, and in the debate thereon, on the 27th of November, 1753, William Pitt (all honour to him) said, ‘Thus, sir, though we repeal this law, out of complaisance to the people, yet we ought to let them know that we do not altogether approve of what they ask.’83 The Bill was carried on the 28th of November, and received the Royal Assent on the 20th of December, the same year, and consequently an injustice was for some time done to some of the loyalest, quietest, and most law-abiding citizens we have. Hanway, however, thought so strongly on the subject that he wrote four tractates upon it, which, as the question is now happily settled, may be dismissed with this brief notice.

He was naturally of a busy turn of mind, and could not sit still. He wrote about anything—it did not much matter what—of the paving, etc. of Westminster and its adjacent parishes; he even wrote a big book, beautifully illustrated, on a little trip he took, when travelling was not so common as now, ‘A Journal of Eight days’ Journey from Portsmouth to Kingston-on-Thames,’ (1756) a second edition of which was published in two volumes in 1757, with the addition of ‘An Essay on Tea, considered as pernicious to Health, obstructing Industry, and impoverishing the Nation.’ So we see he took strong views on things in general, which have since, by experience, been modified.

His scribbling propensities probably did some good, for in 1757 we find him taking up the cause of that very meritorious charity, the Marine Society, to which he was a subscriber to the extent of fifteen guineas. This society, whose house is in Bishopsgate Street, is still alive, and, what is more, flourishing. About this he wrote four or five pamphlets and books. This seems only to have served as a whet to his appetite for philanthropy, for in 1758 he paid £50 to qualify himself as a Life-Governor of the Foundling Hospital. This, naturally, led him to think upon the source whence the foundlings principally came: and he turned his attention towards the foundation of a Magdalen (?) Hospital, which was, with the cooperation of several gentlemen, established in London in 1758, in Great Prescott Street, Goodman’s Fields (the site of which is now, or used to be, called Magdalen Row).

Many more books and pamphlets on the above subjects, the Foundling Hospital, the Marine and Stepney Societies, the Encouragement of British Troops, etc., occupied his leisure until 1760, when he took in hand the social question of giving fees, or vails, to servants, and wrote two pamphlets on the subject. In one of them are some very humorous stories of this absurd custom, one, especially, which from its raciness has become somewhat hackneyed.84 ‘It is a more humorous Story they tell of —— after he had dined with ——. The Servants with assiduous duty had taken the best care of his friend’s Hat, Sword, Cane, Cloak, and among the rest his Gloves also. When he came to demand them, every Servant, with the most submissive respect, brought his part of the Old Gentleman’s personal furniture, and so many Shillings were distributed with his usual liberality; but, as he was going away without his Gloves, one of the Servants reminded him of it, to which he answered, “No matter, friend, you may keep the Gloves, they are not worth a Shilling.”’

Hanway tried to do away with this social tax, which, however, remains to this day. But a very good story is told of Robert Hamilton of Kilbrachmont.85 ‘After a party at Kellie Castle the guests were passing through the Hall where the servants were drawn up to receive their vails, in those days a customary exaction at great houses. The gifts of those who preceded “Robbie” (as the Laird was commonly called) drew forth no expression of gratitude, not even a smile, but when his turn came for performing the ceremony their features were at once lighted up with something even approaching to a laugh.

‘“What did you give the fellows, Robbie?” said his friends, when they got outside; “they looked as sour as vinegar till your turn came.”

‘“Deil a bawbee they got frae me,” said Robbie, “I just kittled their loof.”’86

This system of feeing servants received a crushing blow on the production (in 1759) of the Rev. James Townley’s farce of ‘High Life below Stairs,’ which probably led to Hanway’s writing his two pamphlets on the subject.

He used occasionally to go to Court—but never solicited any place for himself; still it was thought that his philanthropic exertions should be rewarded, more especially as he had by no means a large fortune. So a deputation of five prominent citizens of London, amongst whom was Hoare the banker, waited on Lord Bute (who was then Prime Minister), and asked that some substantial recognition of his services should made. Their representations had weight, and, in July, 1762, he was appointed one of the commissioners for victualling the Navy.

He was now in easy circumstances, and his official duties could not have been very heavy, for in that year he wrote four pamphlets on ‘Meditations on Life, &c.,’ ‘Registration of the Parish Poor, and Ventilation,’ his pet Magdalens, and a ‘Disquisition on Peace and War’ themes so diverse that they show the variety of subjects that occupied his serious attention. In fact, he scribbled on an infinity of things—all having for their aim the benefit of mankind. He had a financial scheme ‘for saving from Seventy Thousand Pounds to One Hundred and Fifty Thousand Pounds to the Public;’ he wrote on the ‘Uses and Advantages of Music;’ the ‘Case of the Canadians at Montreal;’ ‘The Soldier’s Faithful Friend, being Moral and Religious Advice to private Men in the Army and Militia;’ the ‘Registration of the Children of the Poor;’ another pamphlet on the rising generation of the labouring poor; and, not content with addressing the private soldier, he must needs write ‘The Christian Officer, addressed to the Officers of his Majesty’s forces, &c.’

About this time he was evidently most goody-goody. He wrote ‘Moral and Religious Instruction to young Persons;’ ‘Moral and Religious Instructions, intended for Apprentices among the lower Classes of the People;’ ‘Letters to the Guardians of the Infant Poor;’ ‘Rules and Regulations of the Magdalene Hospital, with Prayers, &c.;’ ‘Advice to a Daughter, on her going to Service, &c.;’ ‘Advice from a Farmer to his Daughter;’ ‘Observations on the Causes of the Dissoluteness which reigns among the lower Classes of the People.’

He could not even leave to Mrs. Elizabeth Montague of the ‘Blue-Stocking Club’ notoriety, her championship and patronage of the poor little climbing boys—and he fired off a pamphlet on ‘The State of Chimney-Sweepers’ young Apprentices, &c.’ These poor little friendless mortals excited his pity, and his first efforts in their behalf were to get them regularly bound apprentices, so as to bring them under the cognizance of the magistracy; he advocated and inaugurated a subscription to defray the expense, and supply them with clothes. And this movement was attended with considerable success, for many boys were bound apprentices, and some of the masters were prosecuted for cruelty to their boys.

Then, to show the diversity of his talents, he wrote two pamphlets on bread, and a book in two volumes on ‘Virtue in humble life, &c.’ In 1775 he published a large quarto volume on ‘The Defects of Police, the Causes of Immorality, &c.,’ and in the copy which I have before me, is written, ‘To the King, with the Author’s most humble Duty.’ In this book, among other things, he advocated solitary, or rather isolated confinement—permitting the prisoners to work, and giving them an increased dietary according to their labour, This was followed in 1776 by a pamphlet on ‘Solitude in Imprisonment, with proper labour, &c.’

He was now sixty-four years of age, but he was as bodily active as he was mentally, and in February, 1776, he had to go over to Hamburg in connection with his duties as one of the commissioners of the Victualling Board. In 1777, 1778, and 1782, he wrote three books on the Lord’s Supper—and from that time he wrote, until he died in 1786, on all sorts of subjects, religious, social, and political, a list of which would only be wearisome. In the summer of 1786 his health gave way, and he was evidently sinking, but he lingered until the 5th of September, when he calmly passed away—perfectly prepared for the great change, putting on a fine ruffled shirt, giving up his keys, disposing of some trinkets, and having his will read to him. Death came easily to him, and he expired with the word ‘Christ’ upon his lips.

Such was the life, and such was the death, of Jonas Hanway, whose biography is not half well enough known.