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The History of Tom Jones, a foundling

H >> Henry Fielding >> The History of Tom Jones, a foundling




"Here I first began seriously to reflect on the miscarriages of my
former life; on the errors I had been guilty of; on the misfortunes
which I had brought on myself; and on the grief which I must have
occasioned to one of the best of fathers. When I added to all these
the perfidy of my mistress, such was the horror of my mind, that life,
instead of being longer desirable, grew the object of my abhorrence;
and I could have gladly embraced death as my dearest friend, if it had
offered itself to my choice unattended by shame.

"The time of the assizes soon came, and I was removed by habeas corpus
to Oxford, where I expected certain conviction and condemnation; but,
to my great surprize, none appeared against me, and I was, at the end
of the sessions, discharged for want of prosecution. In short, my chum
had left Oxford, and whether from indolence, or from what other motive
I am ignorant, had declined concerning himself any farther in the
affair."

"Perhaps," cries Partridge, "he did not care to have your blood upon
his hands; and he was in the right on't. If any person was to be
hanged upon my evidence, I should never be able to lie alone
afterwards, for fear of seeing his ghost."

"I shall shortly doubt, Partridge," says Jones, "whether thou art more
brave or wise."--"You may laugh at me, sir, if you please," answered
Partridge; "but if you will hear a very short story which I can tell,
and which is most certainly true, perhaps you may change your opinion.
In the parish where I was born--" Here Jones would have silenced him;
but the stranger interceded that he might be permitted to tell his
story, and in the meantime promised to recollect the remainder of his
own.

Partridge then proceeded thus: "In the parish where I was born, there
lived a farmer whose name was Bridle, and he had a son named Francis,
a good hopeful young fellow: I was at the grammar-school with him,
where I remember he was got into Ovid's Epistles, and he could
construe you three lines together sometimes without looking into a
dictionary. Besides all this, he was a very good lad, never missed
church o' Sundays, and was reckoned one of the best psalm-singers in
the whole parish. He would indeed now and then take a cup too much,
and that was the only fault he had."--"Well, but come to the ghost,"
cries Jones. "Never fear, sir; I shall come to him soon enough,"
answered Partridge. "You must know, then, that farmer Bridle lost a
mare, a sorrel one, to the best of my remembrance; and so it fell out
that this young Francis shortly afterward being at a fair at Hindon,
and as I think it was on--, I can't remember the day; and being as he
was, what should he happen to meet but a man upon his father's mare.
Frank called out presently, Stop thief; and it being in the middle of
the fair, it was impossible, you know, for the man to make his escape.
So they apprehended him and carried him before the justice: I remember
it was Justice Willoughby, of Noyle, a very worthy good gentleman; and
he committed him to prison, and bound Frank in a recognisance, I think
they call it--a hard word compounded of _re_ and _cognosco_; but it
differs in its meaning from the use of the simple, as many other
compounds do. Well, at last down came my Lord Justice Page to hold the
assizes; and so the fellow was had up, and Frank was had up for a
witness. To be sure, I shall never forget the face of the judge, when
he began to ask him what he had to say against the prisoner. He made
poor Frank tremble and shake in his shoes. `Well you, fellow,' says my
lord, `what have you to say? Don't stand humming and hawing, but speak
out.' But, however, he soon turned altogether as civil to Frank, and
began to thunder at the fellow; and when he asked him if he had
anything to say for himself, the fellow said, he had found the horse.
`Ay!' answered the judge, `thou art a lucky fellow: I have travelled
the circuit these forty years, and never found a horse in my life: but
I'll tell thee what, friend, thou wast more lucky than thou didst know
of; for thou didst not only find a horse, but a halter too, I promise
thee.' To be sure, I shall never forget the word. Upon which everybody
fell a laughing, as how could they help it? Nay, and twenty other
jests he made, which I can't remember now. There was something about
his skill in horse-flesh which made all the folks laugh. To be
certain, the judge must have been a very brave man, as well as a man
of much learning. It is indeed charming sport to hear trials upon life
and death. One thing I own I thought a little hard, that the
prisoner's counsel was not suffered to speak for him, though he
desired only to be heard one very short word, but my lord would not
hearken to him, though he suffered a counsellor to talk against him
for above half-an-hour. I thought it hard, I own, that there should be
so many of them; my lord, and the court, and the jury, and the
counsellors, and the witnesses, all upon one poor man, and he too in
chains. Well, the fellow was hanged, as to be sure it could be no
otherwise, and poor Frank could never be easy about it. He never was
in the dark alone, but he fancied he saw the fellow's spirit."--"Well,
and is this thy story?" cries Jones. "No, no," answered Partridge. "O
Lord have mercy upon me! I am just now coming to the matter; for one
night, coming from the alehouse, in a long, narrow, dark lane, there
he ran directly up against him; and the spirit was all in white, and
fell upon Frank; and Frank, who was a sturdy lad, fell upon the spirit
again, and there they had a tussel together, and poor Frank was
dreadfully beat: indeed he made a shift at last to crawl home; but
what with the beating, and what with the fright, he lay ill above a
fortnight; and all this is most certainly true, and the whole parish
will bear witness to it."

The stranger smiled at this story, and Jones burst into a loud fit of
laughter; upon which Partridge cried, "Ay, you may laugh, sir; and so
did some others, particularly a squire, who is thought to be no better
than an atheist; who, forsooth, because there was a calf with a white
face found dead in the same lane the next morning, would fain have it
that the battle was between Frank and that, as if a calf would set
upon a man. Besides, Frank told me he knew it to be a spirit, and
could swear to him in any court in Christendom; and he had not drank
above a quart or two or such a matter of liquor, at the time. Lud have
mercy upon us, and keep us all from dipping our hands in blood, I
say!"

"Well, sir," said Jones to the stranger, "Mr Partridge hath finished
his story, and I hope will give you no future interruption, if you
will be so kind to proceed." He then resumed his narration; but as he
hath taken breath for a while, we think proper to give it to our
reader, and shall therefore put an end to this chapter.



Chapter xii.

In which the Man of the Hill continues his history.


"I had now regained my liberty," said the stranger; "but I had lost my
reputation; for there is a wide difference between the case of a man
who is barely acquitted of a crime in a court of justice, and of him
who is acquitted in his own heart, and in the opinion of the people. I
was conscious of my guilt, and ashamed to look any one in the face; so
resolved to leave Oxford the next morning, before the daylight
discovered me to the eyes of any beholders.

"When I had got clear of the city, it first entered into my head to
return home to my father, and endeavour to obtain his forgiveness; but
as I had no reason to doubt his knowledge of all which had past, and
as I was well assured of his great aversion to all acts of dishonesty,
I could entertain no hopes of being received by him, especially since
I was too certain of all the good offices in the power of my mother;
nay, had my father's pardon been as sure, as I conceived his
resentment to be, I yet question whether I could have had the
assurance to behold him, or whether I could, upon any terms, have
submitted to live and converse with those who, I was convinced, knew
me to have been guilty of so base an action.

"I hastened therefore back to London, the best retirement of either
grief or shame, unless for persons of a very public character; for
here you have the advantage of solitude without its disadvantage,
since you may be alone and in company at the same time; and while you
walk or sit unobserved, noise, hurry, and a constant succession of
objects, entertain the mind, and prevent the spirits from preying on
themselves, or rather on grief or shame, which are the most
unwholesome diet in the world; and on which (though there are many who
never taste either but in public) there are some who can feed very
plentifully and very fatally when alone.

"But as there is scarce any human good without its concomitant evil,
so there are people who find an inconvenience in this unobserving
temper of mankind; I mean persons who have no money; for as you are
not put out of countenance, so neither are you cloathed or fed by
those who do not know you. And a man may be as easily starved in
Leadenhall-market as in the deserts of Arabia.

"It was at present my fortune to be destitute of that great evil, as
it is apprehended to be by several writers, who I suppose were
overburthened with it, namely, money."--"With submission, sir," said
Partridge, "I do not remember any writers who have called it
_malorum_; but _irritamenta malorum_. _Effodiuntur opes, irritamenta
malorum_"--"Well, sir," continued the stranger, "whether it be an
evil, or only the cause of evil, I was entirely void of it, and at the
same time of friends, and, as I thought, of acquaintance; when one
evening, as I was passing through the Inner Temple, very hungry, and
very miserable, I heard a voice on a sudden hailing me with great
familiarity by my Christian name; and upon turning about, I presently
recollected the person who so saluted me to have been my
fellow-collegiate; one who had left the university above a year, and
long before any of my misfortunes had befallen me. This gentleman,
whose name was Watson, shook me heartily by the hand; and expressing
great joy at meeting me, proposed our immediately drinking a bottle
together. I first declined the proposal, and pretended business, but
as he was very earnest and pressing, hunger at last overcame my pride,
and I fairly confessed to him I had no money in my pocket; yet not
without framing a lie for an excuse, and imputing it to my having
changed my breeches that morning. Mr Watson answered, `I thought,
Jack, you and I had been too old acquaintance for you to mention such
a matter.' He then took me by the arm, and was pulling me along; but I
gave him very little trouble, for my own inclinations pulled me much
stronger than he could do.

"We then went into the Friars, which you know is the scene of all
mirth and jollity. Here, when we arrived at the tavern, Mr Watson
applied himself to the drawer only, without taking the least notice of
the cook; for he had no suspicion but that I had dined long since.
However, as the case was really otherwise, I forged another falsehood,
and told my companion I had been at the further end of the city on
business of consequence, and had snapt up a mutton-chop in haste; so
that I was again hungry, and wished he would add a beef-steak to his
bottle."--"Some people," cries Partridge, "ought to have good
memories; or did you find just money enough in your breeches to pay
for the mutton-chop?"--"Your observation is right," answered the
stranger, "and I believe such blunders are inseparable from all
dealing in untruth.--But to proceed--I began now to feel myself
extremely happy. The meat and wine soon revived my spirits to a high
pitch, and I enjoyed much pleasure in the conversation of my old
acquaintance, the rather as I thought him entirely ignorant of what
had happened at the university since his leaving it.

"But he did not suffer me to remain long in this agreeable delusion;
for taking a bumper in one hand, and holding me by the other, `Here,
my boy,' cries he, `here's wishing you joy of your being so honourably
acquitted of that affair laid to your charge.' I was thunderstruck
with confusion at those words, which Watson observing, proceeded thus:
`Nay, never be ashamed, man; thou hast been acquitted, and no one now
dares call thee guilty; but, prithee, do tell me, who am thy friend--I
hope thou didst really rob him? for rat me if it was not a meritorious
action to strip such a sneaking, pitiful rascal; and instead of the
two hundred guineas, I wish you had taken as many thousand. Come,
come, my boy, don't be shy of confessing to me: you are not now
brought before one of the pimps. D--n me if I don't honour you for it;
for, as I hope for salvation, I would have made no manner of scruple
of doing the same thing.'

"This declaration a little relieved my abashment; and as wine had now
somewhat opened my heart, I very freely acknowledged the robbery, but
acquainted him that he had been misinformed as to the sum taken, which
was little more than a fifth part of what he had mentioned.

"`I am sorry for it with all my heart,' quoth he, `and I wish thee
better success another time. Though, if you will take my advice, you
shall have no occasion to run any such risque. Here,' said he, taking
some dice out of his pocket, `here's the stuff. Here are the
implements; here are the little doctors which cure the distempers of
the purse. Follow but my counsel, and I will show you a way to empty
the pocket of a queer cull without any danger of the nubbing cheat.'"

"Nubbing cheat!" cries Partridge: "pray, sir, what is that?"

"Why that, sir," says the stranger, "is a cant phrase for the gallows;
for as gamesters differ little from highwaymen in their morals, so do
they very much resemble them in their language.

"We had now each drank our bottle, when Mr Watson said, the board was
sitting, and that he must attend, earnestly pressing me at the same
time to go with him and try my fortune. I answered he knew that was at
present out of my power, as I had informed him of the emptiness of my
pocket. To say the truth, I doubted not from his many strong
expressions of friendship, but that he would offer to lend me a small
sum for that purpose, but he answered, `Never mind that, man; e'en
boldly run a levant' [Partridge was going to inquire the meaning of
that word, but Jones stopped his mouth]: `but be circumspect as to the
man. I will tip you the proper person, which may be necessary, as you
do not know the town, nor can distinguish a rum cull from a queer
one."

"The bill was now brought, when Watson paid his share, and was
departing. I reminded him, not without blushing, of my having no
money. He answered, `That signifies nothing; score it behind the door,
or make a bold brush and take no notice.--Or--stay,' says he; `I will
go down-stairs first, and then do you take up my money, and score the
whole reckoning at the bar, and I will wait for you at the corner.' I
expressed some dislike at this, and hinted my expectations that he
would have deposited the whole; but he swore he had not another
sixpence in his pocket.

"He then went down, and I was prevailed on to take up the money and
follow him, which I did close enough to hear him tell the drawer the
reckoning was upon the table. The drawer past by me up-stairs; but I
made such haste into the street, that I heard nothing of his
disappointment, nor did I mention a syllable at the bar, according to
my instructions.

"We now went directly to the gaming-table, where Mr Watson, to my
surprize, pulled out a large sum of money and placed it before him, as
did many others; all of them, no doubt, considering their own heaps as
so many decoy birds, which were to intice and draw over the heaps of
their neighbours.

"Here it would be tedious to relate all the freaks which Fortune, or
rather the dice, played in this her temple. Mountains of gold were in
a few moments reduced to nothing at one part of the table, and rose as
suddenly in another. The rich grew in a moment poor, and the poor as
suddenly became rich; so that it seemed a philosopher could nowhere
have so well instructed his pupils in the contempt of riches, at least
he could nowhere have better inculcated the incertainty of their
duration.

"For my own part, after having considerably improved my small estate,
I at last entirely demolished it. Mr Watson too, after much variety of
luck, rose from the table in some heat, and declared he had lost a
cool hundred, and would play no longer. Then coming up to me, he asked
me to return with him to the tavern; but I positively refused, saying,
I would not bring myself a second time into such a dilemma, and
especially as he had lost all his money and was now in my own
condition. `Pooh!' says he, `I have just borrowed a couple of guineas
of a friend, and one of them is at your service.' He immediately put
one of them into my hand, and I no longer resisted his inclination.

"I was at first a little shocked at returning to the same house whence
we had departed in so unhandsome a manner; but when the drawer, with
very civil address, told us, `he believed we had forgot to pay our
reckoning,' I became perfectly easy, and very readily gave him a
guinea, bid him pay himself, and acquiesced in the unjust charge which
had been laid on my memory.

"Mr Watson now bespoke the most extravagant supper he could well think
of; and though he had contented himself with simple claret before,
nothing now but the most precious Burgundy would serve his purpose.

"Our company was soon encreased by the addition of several gentlemen
from the gaming-table; most of whom, as I afterwards found, came not
to the tavern to drink, but in the way of business; for the true
gamesters pretended to be ill, and refused their glass, while they
plied heartily two young fellows, who were to be afterwards pillaged,
as indeed they were without mercy. Of this plunder I had the good
fortune to be a sharer, though I was not yet let into the secret.

"There was one remarkable accident attended this tavern play; for the
money by degrees totally disappeared; so that though at the beginning
the table was half covered with gold, yet before the play ended, which
it did not till the next day, being Sunday, at noon, there was scarce
a single guinea to be seen on the table; and this was the stranger as
every person present, except myself, declared he had lost; and what
was become of the money, unless the devil himself carried it away, is
difficult to determine."

"Most certainly he did," says Partridge, "for evil spirits can carry
away anything without being seen, though there were never so many folk
in the room; and I should not have been surprized if he had carried
away all the company of a set of wicked wretches, who were at play in
sermon time. And I could tell you a true story, if I would, where the
devil took a man out of bed from another man's wife, and carried him
away through the keyhole of the door. I've seen the very house where
it was done, and nobody hath lived in it these thirty years."

Though Jones was a little offended by the impertinence of Partridge,
he could not however avoid smiling at his simplicity. The stranger did
the same, and then proceeded with his story, as will be seen in the
next chapter.



Chapter xiii.

In which the foregoing story is farther continued.


"My fellow-collegiate had now entered me in a new scene of life. I
soon became acquainted with the whole fraternity of sharpers, and was
let into their secrets; I mean, into the knowledge of those gross
cheats which are proper to impose upon the raw and unexperienced; for
there are some tricks of a finer kind, which are known only to a few
of the gang, who are at the head of their profession; a degree of
honour beyond my expectation; for drink, to which I was immoderately
addicted, and the natural warmth of my passions, prevented me from
arriving at any great success in an art which requires as much
coolness as the most austere school of philosophy.

"Mr Watson, with whom I now lived in the closest amity, had unluckily
the former failing to a very great excess; so that instead of making a
fortune by his profession, as some others did, he was alternately rich
and poor, and was often obliged to surrender to his cooler friends,
over a bottle which they never tasted, that plunder that he had taken
from culls at the public table.

"However, we both made a shift to pick up an uncomfortable livelihood;
and for two years I continued of the calling; during which time I
tasted all the varieties of fortune, sometimes flourishing in
affluence, and at others being obliged to struggle with almost
incredible difficulties. To-day wallowing in luxury, and to-morrow
reduced to the coarsest and most homely fare. My fine clothes being
often on my back in the evening, and at the pawn-shop the next
morning.

"One night, as I was returning pennyless from the gaming-table, I
observed a very great disturbance, and a large mob gathered together
in the street. As I was in no danger from pickpockets, I ventured into
the croud, where upon enquiry I found that a man had been robbed and
very ill used by some ruffians. The wounded man appeared very bloody,
and seemed scarce able to support himself on his legs. As I had not
therefore been deprived of my humanity by my present life and
conversation, though they had left me very little of either honesty or
shame, I immediately offered my assistance to the unhappy person, who
thankfully accepted it, and, putting himself under my conduct, begged
me to convey him to some tavern, where he might send for a surgeon,
being, as he said, faint with loss of blood. He seemed indeed highly
pleased at finding one who appeared in the dress of a gentleman; for
as to all the rest of the company present, their outside was such that
he could not wisely place any confidence in them.

"I took the poor man by the arm, and led him to the tavern where we
kept our rendezvous, as it happened to be the nearest at hand. A
surgeon happening luckily to be in the house, immediately attended,
and applied himself to dressing his wounds, which I had the pleasure
to hear were not likely to be mortal.

"The surgeon having very expeditiously and dextrously finished his
business, began to enquire in what part of the town the wounded man
lodged; who answered, `That he was come to town that very morning;
that his horse was at an inn in Piccadilly, and that he had no other
lodging, and very little or no acquaintance in town.'

"This surgeon, whose name I have forgot, though I remember it began
with an R, had the first character in his profession, and was
serjeant-surgeon to the king. He had moreover many good qualities, and
was a very generous good-natured man, and ready to do any service to
his fellow-creatures. He offered his patient the use of his chariot to
carry him to his inn, and at the same time whispered in his ear, `That
if he wanted any money, he would furnish him.'

"The poor man was not now capable of returning thanks for this
generous offer; for having had his eyes for some time stedfastly on
me, he threw himself back in his chair, crying, `Oh, my son! my son!'
and then fainted away.

"Many of the people present imagined this accident had happened
through his loss of blood; but I, who at the same time began to
recollect the features of my father, was now confirmed in my
suspicion, and satisfied that it was he himself who appeared before
me. I presently ran to him, raised him in my arms, and kissed his cold
lips with the utmost eagerness. Here I must draw a curtain over a
scene which I cannot describe; for though I did not lose my being, as
my father for a while did, my senses were however so overpowered with
affright and surprize, that I am a stranger to what passed during some
minutes, and indeed till my father had again recovered from his swoon,
and I found myself in his arms, both tenderly embracing each other,
while the tears trickled a-pace down the cheeks of each of us.

"Most of those present seemed affected by this scene, which we, who
might be considered as the actors in it, were desirous of removing
from the eyes of all spectators as fast as we could; my father
therefore accepted the kind offer of the surgeon's chariot, and I
attended him in it to his inn.

"When we were alone together, he gently upbraided me with having
neglected to write to him during so long a time, but entirely omitted
the mention of that crime which had occasioned it. He then informed me
of my mother's death, and insisted on my returning home with him,
saying, `That he had long suffered the greatest anxiety on my account;
that he knew not whether he had most feared my death or wished it,
since he had so many more dreadful apprehensions for me. At last, he
said, a neighbouring gentleman, who had just recovered a son from the
same place, informed him where I was; and that to reclaim me from this
course of life was the sole cause of his journey to London.' He
thanked Heaven he had succeeded so far as to find me out by means of
an accident which had like to have proved fatal to him; and had the
pleasure to think he partly owed his preservation to my humanity, with
which he profest himself to be more delighted than he should have been
with my filial piety, if I had known that the object of all my care
was my own father.

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