VOYAGE TO LISBON--DEATH
"satisfied in having finished my life, as I have probably lost it in
the service of my country."
_Journal of a Voyage to Lisbon_.
To a man dying of a complication of disorders the terrible winter of
1753-4 brought added danger; a winter which, says Fielding, "put a lucky
end, if they had known their own interests, to such numbers of aged and
infirm valetudinarians." But this, too, his splendid constitution
struggled through; and in February 1754, he was back in town, in a
condition less despaired of, he tells us, by himself than by any of his
friends.
And if he did not allow himself to despair, neither did he, even now,
relinquish all his magistrate's work. On the 26th of February cases are
actually recorded as brought before him. [1] But within a few days,
apparently, of this date treatment employed on the advice of Dr Joshua
Ward, so weakened a body already 'enervate' and emaciated, that at first
the patient "was thought to be falling into the agonies of death." On
March 6, he was, he tells us, at his worst--that "memorable day when the
public lost Mr Pelham. From that day I began slowly, as it were, to draw
my feet out of the grave; till in two months time I had again acquired
some little degree of strength."
Before the expiration of these two months that 'little degree of strength'
was again being expended in the drudgery of the Bow Street court-room.
"Yesterday," states the _Public Advertiser_ of April 17, "Elizabeth Smith
was committed to Newgate by Henry Fielding Esqre; being charged with
stealing a great quantity of Linnen." [2] And five days later, on April
22, a committal is recorded in the Middlesex _Sessions Book_. [3]
Although Fielding could now leave his sickroom, when called thence to
commit a thief to Newgate, a newspaper paragraph, dated a little earlier
in this same month of April, shows that the public were apprehensive that
the protection afforded them by their indefatigable magistrate was now of
a very precarious duration. The writer refers to the complete success of
Mr Fielding's _Plan_ for the subjugation of criminals, executed the
previous winter, pointing out that "the Public who had such Reason to
suspect the contrary have suffered fewer Outrages than have happened any
Winter this Twenty years." And without making any direct statement as to
the fast failing strength of the author and executor of that _Plan_, he
continues in words that plainly indicate the abdication of those zealous
energies: "The whole Plan we are assured is communicated to Justice John
Fielding and Mr Welch who are determined to bring it to that perfection of
which it is capable." This 'assurance' of the _Advertiser_ is confirmed by
Fielding's own words in the _Voyage to Lisbon_. "I therefore" he says,
speaking clearly of the winter or spring of 1753-4, "resigned the office
[of principal Justice of the Peace in Westminster] and the farther
execution of my plan to my brother, who had long been my assistant."
This blind brother, who in his turn became famous as a London magistrate,
was now a Justice of the Peace for Middlesex [4] as well as for
Westminster; and was at this time living in the Strand, as the Resident
Proprietor [5] of that enterprising _Universal Register Office_ which has
won incidental immortality in his brother's pages, and which combined such
heterogeneous activities as those of an Estate Office, Registry for
servants of good character, Lost Property Office, Curiosity Shop and
General Agency.
Another announcement in the columns of the _Advertiser_ links this last
Spring of Fielding's life with that earlier Spring of 1743, when as a
popular play-wright and a struggling barrister, absorbed in anxiety for
the health of a beloved wife and with his own health already attacked, he
published that masterpiece of irony _Jonathan Wild_. Now, while he was
still slowly drawing his 'feet out of the grave,' after those critical
first days of March, a new edition of the _History_ of that "Great Man,"
with "considerable Corrections and Additions," was advertised; the actual
date of publication being, apparently, about March 19. The new edition
appeared with a prefatory note, "from the Publisher to the Reader," which
although it bears no signature conveys, undoubtedly, Fielding's intention,
if not his actual words. There is the familiar protest against the
"scurrility of others," the odium of which had fallen on the innocent
shoulders of "the author of our little book"; and there is a solemn
declaration that the said little book shows no reason for supposing any
'personal application' to be meant in its pages "unless we will agree that
there are without those Walls [i.e. of Newgate], some other bodies of men
of worse morals than those within; and who have consequently, a right to
change places with its present inhabitants." Then follows an explicit
reference to a chapter in the _History_ of the arch-villain Wild, which is
obviously designed to satirise the condition of English politics, if not
the person of any one politician. The disclaimer, seems on the whole, to
partake very properly of the ironic nature of the ensuing pages; although
it recalls that youthful declaration of the young dramatist, prefixed to
his first comedy acted nearly thirty years before, that no private
character was the target of his pen.
At the end of these two months of March and April, spent as we have seen
in acquiring some little degree of strength, and in at least attempting to
expend the same on the consignment of petty thieves to Newgate, Fielding
again submitted his dropsy to the surgeon, the consequences of which he
now bore much better. This improvement, he tells us, he attributed greatly
to "a dose of laudanum prescribed by my surgeon. It first gave me the most
delicious flow of spirits, and afterwards as comfortable a nap." Lady Mary
Wortley Montagu has recorded how her cousin's 'happy constitution,' even
when half-demolished, could enjoy, with undiminished zest "a venison
pasty, or a flask of champagne." Surely none other than Henry Fielding
could have recorded with like zest this 'delicious flow of spirits' and
'comfortable nap' derived from a dose of laudanum.
The month of May, with its promise of relief from the still lingering
winter, had now begun. Fielding therefore resolved, he says, to visit a
little country house of his "which stands at Ealing, in the county of
Middlesex, in the best air, I believe, in the whole kingdom." [6] Towards
the end of the month, he had resort to a long forgotten eighteenth century
panacea, the tar-water discovered by Bishop Berkeley; and very soon
experienced effects far beyond his "most sanguine hopes." Success beyond
Fielding's most sanguine hopes must have been great indeed; and
accordingly we hear how this tar-water, from the very first, lessened his
illness, increased his appetite, and very slowly added to his bodily
strength. By the end of the month a third application by his surgeon
revealed distinctly favourable symptoms; but still both the dropsy and the
asthma were becoming more serious; and the summer, which the doctors
seemed to think the sick man's 'only chance of life' seemed scarce likely
to visit England at all in that sunless year. "In the whole month of May
the sun scarce appeared three times" we learn, from the _Voyage_. Fearing
therefore the renewed assaults of winter, before he had recruited his
forces so as "to be in anywise able to withstand them," Fielding resolved,
with the approval of a very eminent physician, to put an already formed
project into immediate execution. This was to seek further recovery in
some warmer climate. At first Aix was thought of, but here the
difficulties of travel in the reign of George II. for invalids of slender
means, proved insuperable. The journey by land, "beside the expense of
it," Fielding found to be "infinitely too long and fatiguing"; and no ship
was announced as sailing within 'any reasonable time' for that part of the
Mediterranean. Lisbon accordingly was decided upon; and John Fielding soon
discovered a ship with excellent passenger accommodation, and which was
due to sail in three days. "I eagerly embraced the offer," writes
Fielding, as though he were starting on a pleasure cruise, instead of
facing all the miseries of travel, when unable to make the least use of
his limbs, and when his very appearance "presented a spectacle of the
highest horror"; and he adds "I began to prepare my family for the voyage
with the utmost expedition." Twice, however, the captain put off his
sailing, and at length his passenger invited him to dinner at Ealing, a
full week after the declared date of departure. Meanwhile Fielding's
condition seems at least to have become no worse, for the _Public
Advertiser_ of June 22 has "the pleasure to assure the Publick that the
Report of the Death of Henry Fielding Esquire; inserted in an Evening
paper of Thursday is not true, that Gentleman's Health being better than
it has been for some Month's past."
It was not till the 26th of June that, in the memorable opening words of
the _Voyage_, "the most melancholy sun I had ever beheld arose, and found
me awake at my house at Fordhook. By the light of this sun, I was, in my
own opinion, last to behold and take leave of some of those creatures on
whom I doated with a mother-like fondness, guided by nature and passion,
and uncured and unhardened by all the doctrine of that philosophical
school where I had learnt to bear pains and to despise death." The morning
was spent with his children, the eldest of whom was then a boy of six; and
"I doubt not," he writes, "whether, in that time, I did not undergo more
than in all my distemper." At noon his coach was at the door, and this
"was no sooner told me than I kiss'd my children round, and went into it
with some little resolution." His wife, behaving "more like a heroine and
philosopher, tho' at the same time the tenderest mother in the world," and
his eldest daughter, followed him; and the invalid was swiftly driven the
twelve miles to Rotherhithe. Here the task of embarking a man quite bereft
of the use of his limbs had to be accomplished. This difficulty was
overcome with the aid of Saunders Welch, the friend of whom Fielding says
"I never think or speak of but with love and esteem" [7]; and, at last,
the traveller was "seated in a great chair in the cabin," after fatigues,
the most cruel of which he declares to have been the inhuman jests made
upon his wasted and helpless condition by the rows of sailors and watermen
through whom he had been compelled to pass.
From this moment we may read of the pleasures and thoughts, the
experiences and meditations, but scarcely ever of the sufferings of the
dying novelist, in the pages of what has been well called "one of the most
unfeigned and touching little tracts in our own or any other literature"
[8] Confined for six weeks in the narrow prison of an eighteenth century
trading vessel; unable to move save when lifted by unskilled hands; with
food often intolerable to the healthiest appetite; with no relaxation save
the company of the rough old sea-dog who commanded the _Queen of
Portugal_; and fully conscious that his was a mortal illness,--the
inexhaustible courage, the delight in man and in nature, the genius of
Henry Fielding still triumphed over every external circumstance.
Throughout the voyage, fortune, moreover, seemed determined to heap on the
unhappy traveller all manner of additional discomforts; and yet when we
lay down this little volume "begun in pain, and finished almost at the
same period with life," [9] the pictures left on the mind glow almost as
brightly as those which fill the pages written in the full vigour of
Fielding's manhood, and which, as Coleridge said, breathe the air of a
spring morning.
First came a delay of three days off the squalid shores of Wapping and
Rotherhithe, whereby opportunity was afforded of "tasting a delicious
mixture of the air of both these sweet places," and of enjoying such a
concord of the voices of seamen, watermen, fishwomen, oyster women and
their like as Hogarth indicated "in that print of his which is enough to
make a man deaf to look at." This delay, moreover, threatened to bring
Fielding within need of a surgeon when none should be procurable. His
friend Mr William Hunter of Covent Garden, brother of the more famous John
Hunter, relieved this apprehension; but now fresh trouble occurred in the
torments of toothache which befell Mrs Fielding. A servant was despatched
in haste to Wapping, but the desired 'toothdrawer,' arrived after the ship
had at last, on Sunday morning, the 30th of June, left her unsavoury
moorings. That Sunday morning "was fair and bright," and the diarist
records how, dropping down to Gravesend, "we had a passage thither I think
as pleasant as can be conceiv'd." The yards of Deptford and Woolwich were
'noble sights'; the Thames with its splendid shipping excelled all the
rivers of the world; and the men of war, the unrivalled Indiamen, the
other traders, and even the colliers and small craft, all combined to form
"a most pleasing object to the eye, as well as highly warming to the heart
of an Englishman, who has any degree of love for his country, or can
recognise any effect of the patriot in his constitution." And here
Fielding gives us a notable example of his own healthy taste in
recreation; a taste agreeing very ill with the scurrilous popular myths
concerning him, but entirely consonant with the manifest atmosphere of his
genius. He deplores the general neglect of "what seems to me the highest
degree of amusement: that is, the sailing ourselves in little vessels of
our own"; an amusement which need not "exceed the reach of a moderate
fortune, and would fall very short of the prices which are daily paid for
pleasures of a far inferior rate."
Fortune, as we have said, seemed to grudge every little pleasure that
could have alleviated the condition of the helpless invalid on board the
_Queen of Portugal_. The relief obtained from Mr Hunter, he tells us, "the
gaiety of the morning, the pleasant sailing with wind and tide, and the
many agreeable objects with which I was constantly entertained during the
whole way, were all suppressed and overcome by the single consideration of
my wife's pain, which continued incessantly to torment her." The second
despatch of a messenger, in great haste to bring the best reputed operator
in Gravesend recalls Murphy's words: "Of sickness and poverty he was
singularly patient and under pressure of those evils he could quietly read
_Cicero de Consolatione_; but if either of them threatened his wife he was
impetuous for her relief." The remedies both of the Gravesend 'surgeon of
some eminence,' and of yet another practitioner, who was sent for from
Deal, were ineffectual; but about eight in the evening of the following
day, when the ship under contrary winds, was at anchor in the Downs, Mrs
Fielding fell asleep; and to that accident we owe one of the most
characteristic passages in the _Voyage_. His wife's relief from pain
would, Fielding tells us, "have given me some happiness, could I have
known how to employ those spirits which were raised by it: but
unfortunately for me, I was left in a disposition of enjoying an agreeable
hour, without the assistance of a companion, which has always appeared to
me necessary to such enjoyment; my daughter and her companion were both
retired sea-sick to bed; the other passengers were a rude school boy of
fourteen years old, and an illiterate Portuguese friar, who understood no
language but his own, in which I had not the least smattering. The captain
was the only person left, in whose conversation I might indulge myself;
but unluckily for me, besides his knowledge being chiefly confined to his
profession, he had the misfortune of being so deaf, that to make him hear
my words, I must run the risque of conveying them to the ears of my wife,
who, tho' in another room (called, I think, the state-room; being indeed a
most stately apartment capable of containing one human body in length, if
not very tall, and three bodies in breadth) lay asleep within a yard of
me. In this situation necessity and choice were one and the same thing;
the captain and I sat down together to a small bowl of punch, over which
we both soon fell fast asleep, and so concluded the evening." In the
record of the previous day, while sketching the humours of Jacks in
office, Fielding incidentally shows himself as no less careful of the
respect due to his wife than he was solicitous for her comfort. A
ruffianly custom-house officer had appeared in their cabin, wearing a hat
adorned with broad gold lace, and 'cocked with much military fierceness.'
On eliciting the information that 'the gentleman' was a riding surveyor,
"I replied," says Fielding, "that he might be a riding surveyor, but could
be no gentleman, for that none who had any title to that denomination,
would break into the presence of a lady, without any apology or even
moving his hat. He then took his covering from his head, and laid it on
the table, saying he asked pardon." To this 'riding surveyor' we owe also
an indication that Fielding found room in the narrow confines of a cabin
for his Plato; for the rude insolence of that functionary recalls to his
mind the Platonic theory of the divine original of rulers, and he proceeds
to quote a long passage from the _Laws_, which even his ready scholarship
could scarce have had by heart.
Contrary winds continued to baffle all Captain Veal's seamanship, and
afforded his passenger opportunities for a spirited protest concerning the
need of some regulation both of the charges of long-shore boatmen, and of
the manners of captains in the Royal Navy. On the evening of July 8 the
_Voyage_ records that "we beat the sea off Sussex, in sight of Dungeness,
with much more pleasure than progress; for the weather was almost a
perfect calm, and the moon, which was almost at the full, scarce suffered
a single cloud to veil her from our sight"; and on the 18th of the month
the _Queen of Portugal_ put in to Ryde, at which place she remained
wind-bound for no less than eleven days.
These eleven days Fielding spent, by his wife's persuasions, on shore, at
the poor village inn which, together with a little church and some thirty
houses, then constituted the village of Ryde. Of the hardships and humours
of that sojourn the _Voyage_ affords an account worthy of a place among
the pages of either of the three great novels. The landlady, an incredibly
mean and heartless shrew, inflicted daily annoyances and extortions on her
wind-bound victims. The squalid building, partly constructed of
wreck-wood, could scarce house the party. The food supplies, other than
those the visitors brought with them, were chiefly 'rusty bacon, and worse
cheese,' with very bad ale to drink. And on the first afternoon, the house
was found to be so damp from recent scrubbing that Mrs Fielding, who
"besides discharging excellently well her own, and all the tender offices
becoming the female character; who besides being a faithful friend, an
amiable companion, and a tender nurse, could likewise supply the wants of
a decrepit husband, and occasionally perform his part," hastily snatched
the invalid from "worse perils by water than the common dangers of the
sea," and ordered dinner to be laid in a dry and commodious barn. So
seated, "in one of the most pleasant spots, I believe, in the kingdom,"
and regaled on bacon, beans, and fish, "we completed," says Fielding, "the
best, the pleasantest, and the merriest meal, with more appetite, more
real, solid luxury, and more festivity, than was ever seen in an
entertainment at White's."
On Sunday the three ladies went to church, "attended by the captain in a
most military attire, with his cockade in his hat, and his sword by his
side" (Captain Veal had commanded a privateer); and Fielding, while left
alone, pursued those researches into human nature of which he never
wearied by conversation with the landlord, a fine example of henpecked
humanity. On the following day the ladies, again attended by Captain Veal,
enjoyed a four mile walk, professing themselves greatly charmed with the
scenery, and with the courtesy of a lady who owned a great house on this
part of the coast, and who "had slipt out of the way, that my wife and her
company might refresh themselves with the flowers and fruits with which
her garden abounded." Within twenty four hours this generous householder
had sent a message to the inn, placing all that her garden or house
afforded at the disposal of the travellers. Fielding's man-servant was
despatched with proper acknowledgements, and returned "in company with the
gardener, both richly laden with almost every particular which a garden at
this most fruitful season of the year produces."
That evening, on a change of wind, Captain Veal came to demand his
passengers' instant return. This would have been "a terrible circumstance
to me, in my decayed condition," admits Fielding, "especially as very
heavy showers of rain, attended with a high wind, continued to fall
incessantly; the being carried thro' which two miles in the dark, in a wet
and open boat, seemed little less than certain death." Happily the wind
again veered till the following morning, when Fielding and the three
ladies, together with their manservant and maid, were safely re-embarked,
not however without much agitation over the temporary loss of their
tea-chest. This calamity was first compensated by the prompt aid of the
hospitable lady aforementioned, and then averted by the diligent search of
William the footman who at last discovered the hiding place of the missing
'sovereign cordial,' and thus, concludes his master, "ended this scene,
which begun with such appearance of distress, and ended with becoming the
subject of mirth and laughter." Once more on board, Ryde and its beautiful
prospect, its verdant elms, its green meadows, and shady lanes all
combining in Fielding's opinion to make a most delightful habitation,
faded from view. And, by seven o'clock, "we sat down" he says, "to regale
ourselves with some roasted venison, which was much better drest than we
imagined it would be, and an excellent cold pasty which my wife had made
at Ryde, and which we had reserved uncut to eat on board our ship, whither
we all cheerfully exulted in being returned from the presence of Mrs
Humphreys, [the landlady] who by the exact resemblance she bore to a fury,
seemed to have been with no great propriety settled in Paradise."
It is while commenting on the charm of the view from Ryde,--"I confess
myself so entirely fond of a sea prospect, that I think nothing on the
land can equal it,"--that Fielding incidentally utters that extraordinary
reference to Sir Robert Walpole as "one of the best of men and of
ministers." The only explanation of these words at all consonant with what
we know of Fielding's life seems to be that here he adopts once more his
familiar use of irony.
The cheerfulness of spirit with which the invalid encountered every fresh
distress, and 'exulted' in every pleasant sight and trifling pleasure,
during those days at Ryde, is very fully reflected in the following
letter, happily preserved from the untoward fate which has apparently
befallen every other intimate word from his pen. It was written to his
brother John, on the first day of anchorage off Ryde.
"On board the Queen of Portugal, Richd. Veal at anchor on the Mother Bank,
off Ryde, to the care of the Post Master of Portsmouth--this is my Date
and y'r Direction.
"July 12 1754
"Dear Jack, After receiving that agreeable Lre from Mess'rs. Fielding &
Co., we weighed on monday morning and sailed from Deal to the Westward
Four Days long but inconceivably pleasant passage brought us yesterday to
an Anchor on the Mother Bank, on the Back of the Isle of Wight, where we
had last Night in Safety the Pleasure of hearing the Winds roar over our
Heads in as violent a Tempest as I have known, and where my only
Consideration were the Fears which must possess any Friend of ours (if
there is happily any such), who really makes our Well being the Object of
his Concern especially if such Friend should be totally inexperienced in
Sea Affairs. I therefore beg that on the Day you receive this Mrs Daniel
may know that we are just risen from Breakfast in Health and Spirits this
twelfth Instant at 9 in the morning. Our Voyage hath proved fruitful in
Adventures all which being to be written in the Book you must postpone
yr. Curiosity. As the Incidents which fall under yr Cognizance will
possibly be consigned to Oblivion, do give them to us as they pass. Tell
yr Neighbour I am much obliged to him for recommending me to the care of
a most able and experienced Seaman to whom other Captains seem to pay
such Deference that they attend and watch his Motions, and think
themselves only safe when they act under his Direction and Example. Our
Ship in Truth seems to give Laws on the Water with as much Authority and
Superiority as you Dispense Laws to the Public and Examples to yr
Brethern in Commission, Please to direct yr Answer to me on Board as in
the Date, if gone to be returned, and then send it by the Post and
Pacquet to Lisbon to
"Y'r affec't. Brother
"H. Fielding [10]
"To John Fielding Esq. at his House in Bow Street Cov. Garden London."
It is probable, as Mr Austin Dobson has pointed out, that the Mrs Daniel,
whose anxieties Fielding here shows himself anxious to relieve, was his
second wife's mother. And by this time his brother was doubtless occupying
that house in Bow Street so frequently advertised to the public, when any
work was on foot for their protection, as the residence of 'Henry
Fielding, Esqre.'
The almost diabolic figure of the Ryde landlady had scarcely left his
pages, when Fielding found a new subject for his portraiture, in the
pretentious ill-bred follies of a young officer, a nephew of the captain,
who arrived on board to visit his uncle, and who serves as an excellent
foil for the simple-hearted merits of the elder man. A rising wind,
however, cut short the Lieutenant's stories, and two nights later blew a
hurricane which Fielding declares, "would have given no small alarm to a
man, who had either not learnt what it is to die, or known what it is to
be miserable"; continuing, in words that need no comment, "my dear wife
and child must pardon me, if what I did not conceive to be any great evil
to myself, I was not much terrified with the thoughts of happening to
them: in truth, I have often thought they are both too good, and too
gentle, to be trusted to the power of any man." The sea he loved so well
was not to be Fielding's grave. Early the next morning the _Queen of
Portugal_ was at anchor in Torbay; and the whole party sat down "to a very
chearful breakfast."
For a whole week the travellers were kept wind-bound off the Devon coast,
now at anchor, now making vain efforts to proceed. We hear of the 'fine
clouted cream,' and the delicious cyder of the county (two hogsheads of
which latter Fielding purchased as presents for his friends); of the
excellence of the local fish named 'john dóree,' of the scandalous need of
legislation for the protection of sea-men when ashore from land-sharks, a
digression which includes a pleasant interpretation of the myth of Ulysses
and Circe as none other than the dilemma of a Homeric merchant skipper
whose crew Circe "some good ale-wife," had made drunk "with the spirituous
liquors of those days"; of the difficulty with which Fielding could
persuade his wife "whom it was no easy matter for me to force from my
side" to take a walk on shore; and of the captain's grievous lamentations,
which "seemed to have some mixture of the Irish howl in them," [11] when
his cat was accidentally suffocated. Also, to these last wind-bound days
belongs that famous incident which does perhaps no less honour to the hot
tempered tyrannical old skipper than to his illustrious passenger.
Fielding, having just finished dinner, was enjoying some good claret in
the cabin, with his wife and her friend--a cheerful moment, when
conversation 'is most agreeable,' when Tom, the captain's general
factotum, burst in on them and began, without saying a 'by your leave', to
bottle half a hogshead of small beer. After requests and protests, equally
unavailing, this functionary found himself, says Fielding, threatened
"with having one bottle to pack more than his number, which then happened
to stand empty within my reach." Thereupon Tom reported his version of the
matter to the captain, who came thundering down to the cabin in a rage
that knew no bounds of language or civility. This behaviour from a man who
had received not only liberal payment from his passenger for
accommodation, but also such frequent stores of fresh provisions that
Fielding's private purse had indeed gone some way in maintaining the
ship's crew, that passenger justly resented, and to a hasty resolve of
quitting the ship by a hoy that should carry him to Dartmouth, he added
threats of legal action. The 'most distant sound of law,' however, he
tells us, "frightened a man, who had often, I am convinced, heard numbers
of cannon roar round him with intrepidity. Nor did he sooner see the hoy
approaching the vessel, than he ran down again into the cabin, and his
rage being perfectly subsided, he tumbled on his knees, and a little too
abjectly implored for mercy. I did not suffer a brave man and an old man,
to remain a moment in this posture; but I immediately forgave him." It is
this incident that Thackeray chooses to complete his picture of the great
novelist; adding that memorable comparison between the "noble spirit and
unconquerable generosity" of Fielding, and the lives of many unknown
heroes of the sea: "Such a brave and gentle heart, such an intrepid and
courageous spirit I love to recognise in the manly the English Harry
Fielding."
Within a week of this reconciliation the ship had made such progress
southward that the captain 'in the redundancy of his good humour, declared
he would go to church at Lisbon on Sunday next' (not the least pleasant of
the pictures which Fielding gives us of the privateer is that of his
summoning all hands on deck on a Sunday morning and then reading prayers
'with an audible voice'); but again the wind played him false, becalming
him near Cape Finisterre. This last calm, however, brought with it
sufficient compensation: "tho' our voyage was retarded, we were
entertained with a scene which as no one can behold without going to sea,
so no one can form an idea of anything equal to it on shore. We were
seated on the deck, women and all, in the serenest evening that can be
imagined. Not a single cloud presented itself to our view, and the sun
himself was the only object which engrossed our whole attention. He did
indeed set with a majesty which is incapable of description, with which,
while the horizon was yet blazing with glory, our eyes were called off to
the opposite part to survey the moon, which was then at full, and which in
rising presented us with the second object that this world hath offered to
our vision. Compared to these the pageantry of theatres, or splendor of
courts, are sights almost below the regard of children."
Four days later, at midnight, the anchor was cast off Lisbon, after a calm
and moonlit passage up the Tagus, a passage, Fielding writes, "incredibly
pleasant to the women, who remained three hours enjoying it, while I was
left to the cooler transports of enjoying their pleasures at second-hand;
and yet, cooler as they may be, whoever is totally ignorant of such
sensation, is, at the same time, void of all ideas of friendship."
On the day following, the 24th of June, he landed, and that evening
enjoyed the long unknown luxury of a good supper, in a kind of
coffee-house "very pleasantly situated on the brow of a hill, about a mile
from the city, [which] hath a very fine prospect of the River Tajo from
Lisbon to the sea." With that pleasant prospect the Voyage closes. Begun
as it was to while away the enforced solitude of his cabin, a condition,
which no man, he tells us, disliked more than himself and which mortal
sickness rendered especially irksome, these pages, some of which "were
possibly the production of the most disagreeable hours which ever haunted
the author," reveal Fielding to us if not as Mr Lowell has said "with
artless inadvertence" at least with perfect fullness. The undimmed gaiety
of spirit, the tender affection, the constant desire to remove those evils
which he found oppressing his country-men by sea not less than on land,
the 'enthusiasm for righteousnes,' the humour of the first of English
novelists, burn here as brightly as though the writer were but midway in
his life's voyage. The hand that exposed evil in its native loathsomeness
in a Blifil and a Wild has not lost its cunning in depicting Mrs
Humphreys; the eye that delighted in the green fields of England saw in
the southern sunset that which made human creations 'almost below the
regard of children.' And to the last the patriotic energies of the author
of _Pasquin_ and of the _Champion_, of the whole hearted social reformer,
of the tireless magistrate, knew no relaxation. Page after page of the
_Voyage_ justify the passage in which he tells us how "I would indeed have
this work, which, if I live to finish it (a matter of no great certainty,
if indeed of any great hope to me), will be probably the last I shall ever
undertake, to produce some better end than the mere diversion of the
reader"; and manifest his desire, here explicitly stated, to finish life
"as I have probably lost it, in the service of my country."
We have no knowledge concerning the four months following the last entry
in the pages of the _Voyage to Lisbon_. On October 8, 1754, the end so
calmly expected came; and in the beautiful English cemetery, facing the
great Basilica of the Heart of Jesus, was laid to rest all that an alien
soil could claim of 'our immortal Fielding.'
[1] The _Public Advertiser_, 1754, February 26.
[2] The _Public Advertiser_ 1754, April 17.
[3] Middlesex Records. _Sessions Book_. 1754.
[4] See the Middlesex Records.
[5] See the _Public Advertiser_. February, 1754.
[6] This little house was apparently replaced by a larger house; and it is
probably this second building of which a sketch is inserted in a copy of
Lysons' _Environs_ to be seen in the Guildhall Library. It is now pulled
down.
[7] Dr Johnson spoke of Saunders Welch as "one of my best and dearest
friends."
[8] Austin Dobson. _Fielding_, p. 170.
[9] "Dedication" of the _Voyage_, written possibly by John Fielding.
[10] Austin Dobson. _Fielding_, p. 179. From the autograph in the
possession of Mr Frederick Locker.
[11] This and the following passage occur in the second version of the
_Voyage to Lisbon_.
APPENDIX A
_The Hapsburg genealogy_
It appears that the Hapsburg descent, formerly claimed by the Denbigh
family, must now be abandoned. The arguments against this descent,
published by Mr Horace Round, have been accepted by Burke. Further, Dr G.
F. Warner permits me to publish his statement that "I have myself seen
the documents upon which it [the claim] rests, and found them to be
unmistakeable forgeries."
As regards Henry Fielding's family it is interesting to find that his
grandfather the Rev. and Hon. John Fielding was not only Canon of
Salisbury, and a Doctor of Divinity, but also Archdeacon of Dorsetshire.
Canon John Fielding was buried at Salisbury. His son George (Henry
Fielding's uncle) was Lt. Colonel of the "Royal Regiment of the Blues,"
and Groom of the Bed-chamber to Queen Anne and to George II. He is buried
in St George's Chapel, Windsor. (J. Nichols. _History and Antiquities
of Leicestershire_. 1810. Vol. iv. pt. i. p. 394.)
APPENDIX B
_Receipt and Assignment of "Tom Jones"_
The following documents are in the possession of Alfred Huth Esq., and
are now first published
June 11 1748.
Rec'd. of Mr. Andrew Millar Six hundred Pounds being in full for the sole
Copy Right of a Book called the History of a Foundling in Eighteen Books.
And in Consideration of the said Six Hundred Pounds I promise to asign
over the said Book to the said Andrew Millar his Executors and assigns
for ever when I shall be thereto demanded.
£ s d
£600, 00, 00. Hen. Ffielding
The said Work to contain Six Volumes in Duodecimo.
Know all Men by these Presents that I Henry Fielding of St. Paul's Covent
Garden in the County of Middlesex Esq'r. for & in consideration of the
Sum of Six hundred Pounds of lawful Money of Great Britain to me in hand
paid by Andrew Millar of St. Mary le Strand in the County afores'd.
Bookseller the Receipt whereof is hereby acknowledged and of which I do
Acquit the s'd. Andrew Millar his Executors & Assigns, have bargained
sold delivered assigned & set over all that my Title Right and Property
in & to a certain Book printed in Six Volumes, known & called by the Name
& Title of The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling, inv'd. written by me
the s'd. Henry Fielding, with all Improvements, Additions or Alterations
whatsoever which now are or hereafter shall at any time be made by me the
s'd. Henry Fielding, or any one else by my authority to the s'd. Book To
Have and to Hold the s'd. bargained Premises unto the s'd. Andrew Millar,
his Ex'ors Adm'ors or Assigns for ever And I do hereby covenant to & with
the s'd. Andrew Millar his Ex'ors Adm'ors & Assigns that I the s'd. Henry
Fielding the Author of the s'd. bargained Premises have not at any time
heretofore done committed or suffered any Act or thing whatsoever by
means whereof the s'd bargained Premises or any part thereof is or shall
be impeached or encumbered in any wise And I the s'd Henry Fielding for
myself my Ex'ors Adm'ors & Assigns shall warrant & defend the s'd
bargained Premises for ever against all Persons whatsoever claiming under
me my Ex'ors Adm'ors or Assigns.
In Witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand & seal this twenty fifth
day of March One thousand seven hundred & forty nine.
H F fielding [Illustration: Seal.]
Signed sealed & delivered
by the within named Henry
Fielding the day and year within
mentioned, in the presence of
Jos. Brogden
APPENDIX C
"_Pasquin turned Drawcansir_"
The _General Advertiser_ for March 13, 1752, Page 3, advertises, as
for Macklin's Benefit, at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden,
"A New Dramatic Satire of Two Acts, call'd
Covent Garden Theatre; or Pasquin turned Drawcansir
Censor of Great Britain
Written on the Model of the Comedies of Aristophanes and the Pasquinades
of the Italian Theatre in Paris; With Chorusses of the People after the
manner of the Greek Drama. The Parts of the Pit, and Boxes, the Stage,
and the Town to be performed by themselves for their Diversion; the Part
of several dull disorderly Characters in and about St. James, to be
performed by certain Persons for Example; and the Part of
Pasquin-Drawcansir to be performed by his Censorial Highness, for his
Interest.
The Satire to be introduced by an Oration, and to conclude by a
Peroration: Both to be spoken from the Rostrum, in the Manner of certain
Orators by Signer Pasquin."
This advertisement is also in the _Covent Garden Journal_, with the
addition of "galleries" after the word _Boxes_. According to Dibdin,
_History of the Stage_, Vol. V. (preface dated 1800) p. 156, this satire
was _by_ Macklin.
APPENDIX D
_The Walpole 'anecdote'_
The following reference to Fielding occurs in a letter by Horace Walpole,
to George Montagu, dated May 18, 1749. It may be prefaced by the
statement that Fielding's strenuous opposition to Sir Robert Walpole was
not likely to be overlooked by Sir Robert's son; and by Mr Austin
Dobson's comment "his [Horace Walpole's] absolute injustice, when his
partisan spirit was uppermost, is everywhere patent to readers of his
Letters ... the story no doubt exaggerated when it reached him, loses
nothing under his transforming and malicious pen." Walpole writes: "He
[Rigby] and Peter Bathurst t'other night carried a servant of the
latter's, who had attempted to shoot him, before Fielding; who, to all
his other vocations, has, by the grace of Mr Lyttelton, added that of
Middlesex justice. He sent them word he was at supper, that they must
come next morning. They did not understand that freedom, and ran up,
where they found him banqueting with a blind man, a whore, and three
Irishmen, on some cold mutton and a bone of ham, both in one dish, and
the dirtiest cloth. He never stirred nor asked them to sit. Rigby, who
had seen him so often come to beg a guinea of Sir C. Williams, and
Bathurst, at whose father's he had lived for victuals, understood that
dignity as little, and pulled themselves chairs; on which he civilised."
The 'blind man' was doubtless the half brother later to be knighted for
his distinguished public services, Sir John Fielding; and, adds Mr Austin
Dobson, "it is extremely unlikely the lady so discourteously
characterised could have been any other than his wife, who Lady Stuart
tells us 'had few personal charms.' There remain the 'three Irishmen' who
may, or may not, have been perfectly presentable members of society. At
all events, their mere nationality, so rapidly decided upon, cannot be
regarded as a stigma." Bearing in mind, on the one hand, our knowledge of
Fielding as he reveals himself in his own pages, and in his friendships,
and on the other the character earned by Horace Walpole's pen, it seems
matter for doubt whether this 'anecdote' deserves even a place in an
appendix.
APPENDIX E
_Fielding's Will_
Fielding's will was discovered in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury, by
Mr G. A. Aitken. It is undated:--
IN THE NAME OF GOD AMEN--I HENRY FIELDING of the parish of Ealing in the
County of Middlesex do hereby give and bequeath unto Ralph Allen of Prior
Park in the County of Somerset Esqr and to his heirs executors
administrators and assigns for ever to the use of the said Ralph his
heirs &c all my Estate real and personal wheresoever and whatsoever and
do appoint him sole EXECUTOR of this my last Will--Beseeching him that
the whole (except my shares in the Register Office) may be sold and
forthwith converted into Money and Annuities purchased thereout for the
lives of my dear Wife Mary and my daughters Harriet and Sophia and what
proportions my said Executor shall please to reserve to my sons William
and Allen shall be paid them severally as they shall attain the age of
twenty and three And as for my Shares in the Register or Universal
Register Office I give ten thereof to my aforesaid Wife seven to my
Daughter Harriet and three to my daughter Sophia my Wife to be put in
immediate possession of her shares and my Daughters of theirs as they
shall severally arrive at the Age of 21 the immediate Profits to be then
likewise paid to my two Daughters by my Executor who is desired to retain
the same in his Hands until that time--Witness my Hand--HENRY
FIELDING--Signed and acknowledged as his last Will and Testament by the
within named Testator in the presence of--MARGARET COLLIER--RICHD
BOOR--ISABELLA ASH--
Proved 14th November 1754.
Extracted from the Principal Registry of the Probate Divorce and
Admiralty Division of the High Court of Justice
In the Prerogative Court of Canterbury
November 1754
HENRY FIELDING Esquire--On the fourteenth day Administration (with the
Will annexed) of the Goods Chattels and Credits of Henry Fielding late of
Ealing in the County of Middlesex but at Lisbon in the Kingdom of
Portugal Esquire deceased was granted to John Fielding Esquire the Uncle
and Curator or Guardian lawfully assigned to Harriet Fielding Spinster a
Minor and Sophia Fielding an Infant the natural and lawfull Daughters of
the said Deceased and two of the Residuary Legatees named in the said
Will for the use and benefit of the said Minor and Infant and until one
of them shall attain the age of twenty one years for that Ralph Allen
Esquire the sole Executor and Residuary Legatee in Trust named in the
said Will hath renounced as well the Execution thereof as Letters of
Administration (with the said Will annexed) of the Goods Chattels and
Credits of the said deceased and Mary Fielding Widow the Relict of the
said deceased and the other Residuary Legatee named in the said Will hath
also renounced Letters of Administration (with the said Will annexed) of
the Goods Chattels and Credits of the said deceased--the said John
Fielding having been first sworn duly to administer.
In addition to the property mentioned here, Fielding possessed a library,
as Mr Austin Dobson discovered, [1] which when sold six months after his
death, "for the Benefit of his Wife and Family," realised £364, 7s. 1d. or
"about £100 more than the public gave in 1785 for the books of Johnson."
[2] Also according to the _Recollections of the Late John Adolphus_, by
Henderson, Fielding purchased a 90 years' lease of a house near
Canterbury, for one of his daughters.
Of the children mentioned in this will, William became, a contemporary
writer tells us, "an eminent barrister at law and inherits the integrity
of his father and a large share of his brilliant talents." [3] Mr Austin
Dobson refers to William Fielding as being like his father "a strenuous
advocate of the poor and unfortunate," and adds that the obituary notice
in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ records his worth and piety. [4] Harriet
Fielding is said to have been of "a sweet temper and great understanding."
[5] Allen Fielding became Vicar of St. Stephens Canterbury, and was
"greatly beloved by all, especially the little children," writes a
descendant. Allen Fielding's four sons all took Orders, and of the second,
Charles, it was written on his death, that "he had not only a heart that
could feel for others, but a heart that lived in giving." [6] The noble
qualities of Henry Fielding found their echo in his descendants.
[1] Austin Dobson. _Fielding_. Appendix IV. p. 212-13; _and Eighteenth
Century Vignettes_, 1896, pp. 164-178.
[2] Austin Dobson. _Fielding_. Appendix IV. p. 212-13; _and Eighteenth
Century Vignettes_, 1896, pp. 164-178.
[3] J. Nichols. _History and Antiquities of Leicestershire_. 1810. Vol.
iv. Pt. I. p. 594.
[4] Austin Dobson. _Fielding_, p. 192.
[5] T. Whitehead. _Original Anecdotes of the late Duke of Kingston_, 1795.
p. 95.
[6] _Some Hapsburghs, Fieldings, Denbighs and Desmonds_, by J. E. M. F.
APPENDIX F
_Fielding's Tomb and Epitaph_
Fielding's present tomb, in the beautiful English cemetery at Lisbon, was
erected in 1830. On one side is inscribed:
LUGET BRITANNIA GREMIO NON DARI
FOVERE NATUM
On the other side are the following lines:
Henrici Fielding
A Somersetensibus apud Glastoniam oriundi
Viri summo ingenio
en quae restant:
Stylo quo non alius unquam
Intima qui potuit cordis reserare mores hominum excolendos
suscepit
Virtuti decorum, vitio foeditatem asseruit, suum cuique tribuens;
Non quin ipse subinde irritaretur evitandis
Ardensin amicitia, in miseria sublevanda effusus
Hilaris urbanus et conjux et pater adamantus.
Aliis non sibi vixit
Vixit sed mortem victricem vincit dum natura durat dum saecula
currunt
Naturae prolem scriptis prae se ferens
Suam et sua genlis extendet famam. [1]
[1] _Somerset and Dorset Notes and Queries_. Vol. viii. p. 353.
APPENDIX G
_Fielding's posthumous play "The Fathers"_
Fielding's play _The Fathers_ or _The Good-natured Man_ seems to have been
lost (apparently after being submitted to Sir Charles Hanbury Williams)
till twenty years after Fielding's death. It was discovered by M'r Johnes,
M.P. for Cardigan, in 1775, or 1776, who sent it to Garrick. Garrick
recognised it as "Harry Fielding's Comedy"; and, after revision, it was
produced at Drury Lane on November 30, 1778. Garrick not only appeared in
the cast, but also wrote both prologue and epilogue. A note, in the
Morrison Manuscripts, from Garrick to D'r John Hoadley, dated January 3,
1776, concludes thus "We have found the lost sheep, Henry Fielding's Good
Natured Man which was mislaid near twenty years." [1] In the following
pleasant letter Sir John Fielding commends Mrs Fielding's Benefit night to
Dr Hunter.
"Sir John Fielding presents his compliments to Dr. Hunter, and acquaints
him that the Comedy of 'The Good-natured Man' written by the late Mr.
Henry Fielding will be performed at Drury Lane next Monday being the
Author's Widow's night.
"He was your old and sincere friend. There are no other of his Works left
unpublished. This is the last opportunity you will have of shewing any
respect to his Memory as a Genius, so that I hope you will send all your
Pupils, all your Patients, all your Friends, & everybody else to the Play
that Night, by which Means you will indulge your benevolent feelings and
your Sentiments of Friendship. [2]
"Bow Street, Dec'r 4, 1778."
[1] Morrison Manuscripts. Catalogue.
[2] _The Athenaeum_. February 1. 1890.
APPENDIX H
_Undated Accounts of Fielding at Salisbury and at Barnes_
Research has so far failed to identify the period of Fielding's
traditional residence in Salisbury. According to the following passage in
_Old and New Sarum or Salisbury_, by R. Benson and H. Hatcher, 1843, he
occupied three houses in or near Salisbury. "It is well known that
Fielding the Novelist married a lady of Salisbury named Craddock [sic] and
was for a time resident in our City. From tradition we learn that he first
occupied the house in the Close at the south side of St Anne's Gate. He
afterwards removed to that in St Anne's Street next to the Friary; and
finally established himself in the Mansion at the foot of Milford Hill,
where he wrote a considerable portion of his _Tom Jones_." [1]
Fielding's residence in Barnes is no less illusive. The following passage
occurs in the edition of 1795 of _Lyson's Environs of London_: "Henry
Fielding, the celebrated Novelist, resided at Barnes, in the house which
is now the property of Mr Partington." [2] In the edition of 1811 the
house is described as "now the property of Mrs Stanton, widow of the late
Admiral Stanton." [3] In Manning and Bray's _Surrey_ the name of the house
is given: "On Barnes Green is a very old house called Milbourne House....
It was once the residence of Henry Fielding the celebrated novel writer.
The widow of Admiral Stanton is the present owner of this house." [4] The
Barnes Rate-books appear to throw no light on the date of Fielding's
residence at Milbourne House. It is noteworthy that both the Barnes and
Salisbury statements indicate a man of some means, living as befitted a
Fielding.
[1] _History of Wiltshire_. Sir R. C. Hoare; volume entitled "Old and New
Sarum or Salisbury," by R. Benson and H. Hatcher, 1843. p 602.
[2] Lysons. _Environs of London_, edition of 1795. Vol. i. part iii. p.
544.
[3] _Ibid_. Edition 1811. Vol. i. p. 10.
[4] Manning and Bray. _History of Surrey_, 1814, vol. iii. p. 316.
APPENDIX I
_An undated letter of Fieldings to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu_
The following undated letter is printed in _The Letters and Works of
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu_ edited by Lord Wharncliffe and W. M.
Thomas. Lord Wharncliffe includes it with the letters from originals
among the Wortley papers. [1]
Wednesday evening
Madam,--I have presumed to send your ladyship a copy of the play which
you did me the honour of reading three acts of last spring, and hope it
may meet as light a censure from your ladyship's judgment as then; for
while your goodness permits me (what I esteem the greatest, and indeed
only happiness of my life) to offer my unworthy performances to your
perusal, it will be entirely from your sentence that they will be
regarded, or disesteemed by me. I shall do myself the honour of calling
at your ladyship's door to-morrow at eleven, which, if it be an improper
hour, I beg to know from your servant what other time will be more
convenient. I am with the greatest respect and gratitude, madam,
Your ladyship's most obedient, most devoted humble servant.
[1] Letters and Works of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, edited by Lord
Wharncliffe and W. M. Thomas. Vol. ii. p. 3, note I, and p. 22.
APPENDIX J
FIELDING'S _Tom Thumb_
This play appears to have carried some political significance in
Fielding's day; if it was not, indeed, written with a political intention.
This may be gathered from an article in the _Daily Post_ of March 29,
1742, apropos of a performance of the _Tragedy of Tragedies_, that night,
at Drury Lane. The article attributes, in detail, political intentions to
the _Tragedy_--"a Piece at first calculated to ridicule some particular
Persons and Affairs in Europe (at the Time it was writ) but more
especially in this Island."
End of Project Gutenberg's Henry Fielding: A Memoir, by G. M. Godden