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A Yorkshire Almanac Comprising 366 Historical Extracts, Red-letter Days and Customs, and Astronomical and Meteorological Data

15 April 1729: John Hobson of Dodworth Green (Barnsley), pessimist, believes he is about to die

John Hobson. 1877. The Journal of Mr. John Hobson, Late of Dodworth Green. Yorkshire Diaries and Autobiographies in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. Ed. Charles Jackson. Durham: Surtees Society. A (morbid) compendium of everyday England. It is sometimes unclear whether the date given is that of an occurrence or that on which news reached his capacious ears. Get it:

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Excerpt

Spent the morning in meditating on the ill posture of my affairs. My father had been lame for several years; my mother old and infirm, wore out with age and care. Several careless servants, not fit to look after business; I so weak and so much out of order that I could not tell when I should be capable myself; payments coming upon me, which in that condition I knew not how to provide against; besides, I had received a letter from London which gave me an account how the parliament was going to lay such a duty upon Geneva and all compound liquors as would certainly ruin the distilling trade, so I supposed my brothers would be incapable of assisting me upon any emergency; all which thoughts depressed my spirits so much, and made me so weak, that at nine a clock, when I got up, I supposed myself dying for several hours. I thank God I had no fearful thoughts, nor was not at all discouraged at the apprehensions of death, which I thought every minute approaching, but took what care I could to spend that small portion of time I thought I had left to my best spiritual advantage. I sent for Mr Clarkson, who came about noon, and administered me the Sacrament, together with my father and mother, and prayed with me several times; thanks be to Almighty God for my recovery, and I hope the impressions which this day’s sudden illness made upon me will never [go] out of my mind; and when I think how suddenly death may overtake one, it will make me lead a more circumspect life for the future, and always have regard to my latter end. Towards night Mr Gregg came, and I was something better; he applied large blistering plasters to the wrists of my arms and to my back, which tormented me very much, and occasioned me to have the strangury [slow and painful urination] all the night. He said it was a nervous fever. At night came Dr Smithson, who, upon talking with me privately, found quickly that it was a mental as well as corporeal distemper, and told me that I had the hypochondriac passion upon me, which then I could not believe, as being a mere stranger to that distemper, but found his words very true, for I was afterwards very often so much disordered in my thoughts that I could not rest nor govern them. In a few days I had every day a shaking fit for an hour, afterwards a fainting fit for 5 hours successively, which gave me the most pain that can be imagined while it lasted. Some time after came Dr Bolderstone, of Coumbridge [?]; he said it was an intermitting fever, but Dr Smithison said it was rather St Vitus’ dance, and that I was in no danger of dying, but rather of a palsy or an apoplexy; so I continued to the end of this month.

To facilitate reading, the spelling and punctuation of elderly excerpts have generally been modernised, and distracting excision scars concealed. My selections, translations, and editions are copyright.

Abbreviations:

  • ER: East Riding
  • GM: Greater Manchester
  • NR: North Riding
  • NY: North Yorkshire
  • SY: South Yorkshire
  • WR: West Riding
  • WY: West Yorkshire

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Original

Spent the morning in meditating on the ill posture of my affairs. My father had been lame for several years; my mother old and infirm, wore out with age and care. Several careless servants, not fit to look after business; I so weak and so much out of order that I could not tell when I should be capable myself; payments coming upon me, which in that condition I knew not how to provide against; besides, I had received a letter from London which gave me an account how the parliament was going to lay such a duty upon Geneva and all compound liquors as would certainly ruin the distilling trade, so I supposed my brothers would be incapable of assisting me upon any emergency; all which thoughts depressed my spirits so much, and made me so weak, that at nine a clock, when I got up, I supposed myself dying for several hours. I thank God I had no fearful thoughts, nor was not at all discouraged at the apprehensions of death, which I thought every minute approaching, but took what care I could to spend that small portion of time I thought I had left to my best spiritual advantage. I sent for Mr. Clarkson, who came about noon, and administered me the Sacrament, together with my father and mother, and prayed with me several times; thanks be to Almighty God for my recovery, and I hope the impressions which this day’s sudden illness made upon me will never [go] out of my mind; and when I think how suddenly death may overtake one, it will make me lead a more circumspect life for the future, and always have regard to my latter end. Towards night Mr. Gregg came, and I was something better; he applied large blistering plasters to the wrists of my arms and to my back, which tormented me very much, and occasioned me to have the strangury [slow and painful urination] all the night. He said it was a nervous fever. At night came Dr. Smithson, who, upon talking with me privately, found quickly that it was a mental as well as corporeal distemper, and told me that I had the hypochondriac passion upon me, which then I could not believe, as being a mere stranger to that distemper, but found his words very true, for I was afterwards very often so much disordered in my thoughts that I could not rest nor govern them. In a few days I had every day a shaking fit for an hour, afterwards a fainting fit for 5 hours successively, which gave me the most pain that can be imagined while it lasted. Some time after came Dr. Bolderstone, of Coumbridge [?] …; he said it was an intermitting fever, but Dr. Smithison said it was rather St. Vitus’ dance, and that I was in no danger of dying, but rather of a palsy or an apoplexy; so I continued to the end of this month.

499 words.

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