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The History of Tom Jones, a foundling

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




Sophia, who was yielding to an excess, when she could neither laugh
nor reason her cousin out of these apprehensions, at last gave way to
them. Perhaps, indeed, had she known of her father's arrival at Upton,
it might have been more difficult to have persuaded her; for as to
Jones, she had, I am afraid, no great horror at the thoughts of being
overtaken by him; nay, to confess the truth, I believe she rather
wished than feared it; though I might honestly enough have concealed
this wish from the reader, as it was one of those secret spontaneous
emotions of the soul to which the reason is often a stranger.

When our young ladies had determined to remain all that evening in
their inn they were attended by the landlady, who desired to know what
their ladyships would be pleased to eat. Such charms were there in the
voice, in the manner, and in the affable deportment of Sophia, that
she ravished the landlady to the highest degree; and that good woman,
concluding that she had attended Jenny Cameron, became in a moment a
stanch Jacobite, and wished heartily well to the young Pretender's
cause, from the great sweetness and affability with which she had been
treated by his supposed mistress.

The two cousins began now to impart to each other their reciprocal
curiosity to know what extraordinary accidents on both sides
occasioned this so strange and unexpected meeting. At last Mrs
Fitzpatrick, having obtained of Sophia a promise of communicating
likewise in her turn, began to relate what the reader, if he is
desirous to know her history, may read in the ensuing chapter.



Chapter iv.

The history of Mrs Fitzpatrick.


Mrs Fitzpatrick, after a silence of a few moments, fetching a deep
sigh, thus began:

"It is natural to the unhappy to feel a secret concern in recollecting
those periods of their lives which have been most delightful to them.
The remembrance of past pleasures affects us with a kind of tender
grief, like what we suffer for departed friends; and the ideas of both
may be said to haunt our imaginations.

"For this reason, I never reflect without sorrow on those days (the
happiest far of my life) which we spent together when both were under
the care of my aunt Western. Alas! why are Miss Graveairs and Miss
Giddy no more? You remember, I am sure, when we knew each other by no
other names. Indeed, you gave the latter appellation with too much
cause. I have since experienced how much I deserved it. You, my
Sophia, was always my superior in everything, and I heartily hope you
will be so in your fortune. I shall never forget the wise and matronly
advice you once gave me, when I lamented being disappointed of a ball,
though you could not be then fourteen years old.----O my Sophy, how
blest must have been my situation, when I could think such a
disappointment a misfortune; and when indeed it was the greatest I had
ever known!"

"And yet, my dear Harriet," answered Sophia, "it was then a serious
matter with you. Comfort yourself therefore with thinking, that
whatever you now lament may hereafter appear as trifling and
contemptible as a ball would at this time."

"Alas, my Sophia," replied the other lady, "you yourself will think
otherwise of my present situation; for greatly must that tender heart
be altered if my misfortunes do not draw many a sigh, nay, many a
tear, from you. The knowledge of this should perhaps deter me from
relating what I am convinced will so much affect you." Here Mrs
Fitzpatrick stopt, till, at the repeated entreaties of Sophia, she
thus proceeded:

"Though you must have heard much of my marriage; yet, as matters may
probably have been misrepresented, I will set out from the very
commencement of my unfortunate acquaintance with my present husband;
which was at Bath, soon after you left my aunt, and returned home to
your father.

"Among the gay young fellows who were at this season at Bath, Mr
Fitzpatrick was one. He was handsome, _dégagé,_ extremely gallant, and
in his dress exceeded most others. In short, my dear, if you was
unluckily to see him now, I could describe him no better than by
telling you he was the very reverse of everything which he is: for he
hath rusticated himself so long, that he is become an absolute wild
Irishman. But to proceed in my story: the qualifications which he then
possessed so well recommended him, that, though the people of quality
at that time lived separate from the rest of the company, and excluded
them from all their parties, Mr Fitzpatrick found means to gain
admittance. It was perhaps no easy matter to avoid him; for he
required very little or no invitation; and as, being handsome and
genteel, he found it no very difficult matter to ingratiate himself
with the ladies, so, he having frequently drawn his sword, the men did
not care publickly to affront him. Had it not been for some such
reason, I believe he would have been soon expelled by his own sex; for
surely he had no strict title to be preferred to the English gentry;
nor did they seem inclined to show him any extraordinary favour. They
all abused him behind his back, which might probably proceed from
envy; for by the women he was well received, and very particularly
distinguished by them.

"My aunt, though no person of quality herself, as she had always lived
about the court, was enrolled in that party; for, by whatever means
you get into the polite circle, when you are once there, it is
sufficient merit for you that you are there. This observation, young
as you was, you could scarce avoid making from my aunt, who was free,
or reserved, with all people, just as they had more or less of this
merit.

"And this merit, I believe, it was, which principally recommended Mr
Fitzpatrick to her favour. In which he so well succeeded, that he was
always one of her private parties. Nor was he backward in returning
such distinction; for he soon grew so very particular in his behaviour
to her, that the scandal club first began to take notice of it, and
the better-disposed persons made a match between them. For my own
part, I confess, I made no doubt but that his designs were strictly
honourable, as the phrase is; that is, to rob a lady of her fortune by
way of marriage. My aunt was, I conceived, neither young enough nor
handsome enough to attract much wicked inclination; but she had
matrimonial charms in great abundance.

"I was the more confirmed in this opinion from the extraordinary
respect which he showed to myself from the first moment of our
acquaintance. This I understood as an attempt to lessen, if possible,
that disinclination which my interest might be supposed to give me
towards the match; and I know not but in some measure it had that
effect; for, as I was well contented with my own fortune, and of all
people the least a slave to interested views, so I could not be
violently the enemy of a man with whose behaviour to me I was greatly
pleased; and the more so, as I was the only object of such respect;
for he behaved at the same time to many women of quality without any
respect at all.

"Agreeable as this was to me, he soon changed it into another kind of
behaviour, which was perhaps more so. He now put on much softness and
tenderness, and languished and sighed abundantly. At times, indeed,
whether from art or nature I will not determine, he gave his usual
loose to gaiety and mirth; but this was always in general company, and
with other women; for even in a country-dance, when he was not my
partner, he became grave, and put on the softest look imaginable the
moment he approached me. Indeed he was in all things so very
particular towards me, that I must have been blind not to have
discovered it. And, and, and----" "And you was more pleased still, my
dear Harriet," cries Sophia; "you need not be ashamed," added she,
sighing; "for sure there are irresistible charms in tenderness, which
too many men are able to affect." "True," answered her cousin; "men,
who in all other instances want common sense, are very Machiavels in
the art of loving. I wish I did not know an instance.--Well, scandal
now began to be as busy with me as it had before been with my aunt;
and some good ladies did not scruple to affirm that Mr Fitzpatrick had
an intrigue with us both.

"But, what may seem astonishing, my aunt never saw, nor in the least
seemed to suspect, that which was visible enough, I believe, from both
our behaviours. One would indeed think that love quite puts out the
eyes of an old woman. In fact, they so greedily swallow the addresses
which are made to them, that, like an outrageous glutton, they are not
at leisure to observe what passes amongst others at the same table.
This I have observed in more cases than my own; and this was so
strongly verified by my aunt, that, though she often found us together
at her return from the pump, the least canting word of his, pretending
impatience at her absence, effectually smothered all suspicion. One
artifice succeeded with her to admiration. This was his treating me
like a little child, and never calling me by any other name in her
presence but that of pretty miss. This indeed did him some disservice
with your humble servant; but I soon saw through it, especially as in
her absence he behaved to me, as I have said, in a different manner.
However, if I was not greatly disobliged by a conduct of which I had
discovered the design, I smarted very severely for it; for my aunt
really conceived me to be what her lover (as she thought him) called
me, and treated me in all respects as a perfect infant. To say the
truth, I wonder she had not insisted on my again wearing
leading-strings.

"At last, my lover (for so he was) thought proper, in a most solemn
manner, to disclose a secret which I had known long before. He now
placed all the love which he had pretended to my aunt to my account.
He lamented, in very pathetic terms, the encouragement she had given
him, and made a high merit of the tedious hours in which he had
undergone her conversation.--What shall I tell you, my dear
Sophia?--Then I will confess the truth. I was pleased with my man. I
was pleased with my conquest. To rival my aunt delighted me; to rival
so many other women charmed me. In short, I am afraid I did not behave
as I should do, even upon the very first declaration--I wish I did not
almost give him positive encouragement before we parted.

"The Bath now talked loudly--I might almost say, roared against me.
Several young women affected to shun my acquaintance, not so much,
perhaps, from any real suspicion, as from a desire of banishing me
from a company in which I too much engrossed their favourite man. And
here I cannot omit expressing my gratitude to the kindness intended me
by Mr Nash, who took me one day aside, and gave me advice, which if I
had followed, I had been a happy woman. `Child,' says he, `I am sorry
to see the familiarity which subsists between you and a fellow who is
altogether unworthy of you, and I am afraid will prove your ruin. As
for your old stinking aunt, if it was to be no injury to you and my
pretty Sophy Western (I assure you I repeat his words), I should be
heartily glad that the fellow was in possession of all that belongs to
her. I never advise old women: for, if they take it into their heads
to go to the devil, it is no more possible than worth while to keep
them from him. Innocence and youth and beauty are worthy a better
fate, and I would save them from his clutches. Let me advise you
therefore, dear child, never suffer this fellow to be particular with
you again.' Many more things he said to me, which I have now
forgotten, and indeed I attended very little to them at the time; for
inclination contradicted all he said; and, besides, I could not be
persuaded that women of quality would condescend to familiarity with
such a person as he described.

"But I am afraid, my dear, I shall tire you with a detail of so many
minute circumstances. To be concise, therefore, imagine me married;
imagine me with my husband, at the feet of my aunt; and then imagine
the maddest woman in Bedlam, in a raving fit, and your imagination
will suggest to you no more than what really happened.

"The very next day my aunt left the place, partly to avoid seeing Mr
Fitzpatrick or myself, and as much perhaps to avoid seeing any one
else; for, though I am told she hath since denied everything stoutly,
I believe she was then a little confounded at her disappointment.
Since that time, I have written to her many letters, but never could
obtain an answer, which I must own sits somewhat the heavier, as she
herself was, though undesignedly, the occasion of all my sufferings:
for, had it not been under the colour of paying his addresses to her,
Mr Fitzpatrick would never have found sufficient opportunities to have
engaged my heart, which, in other circumstances, I still flatter
myself would not have been an easy conquest to such a person. Indeed,
I believe I should not have erred so grossly in my choice if I had
relied on my own judgment; but I trusted totally to the opinion of
others, and very foolishly took the merit of a man for granted whom I
saw so universally well received by the women. What is the reason, my
dear, that we, who have understandings equal to the wisest and
greatest of the other sex, so often make choice of the silliest
fellows for companions and favourites? It raises my indignation to the
highest pitch to reflect on the numbers of women of sense who have
been undone by fools." Here she paused a moment; but, Sophia making no
answer, she proceeded as in the next chapter.



Chapter v.

In which the history of Mrs Fitzpatrick is continued.


"We remained at Bath no longer than a fortnight after our wedding; for
as to any reconciliation with my aunt, there were no hopes; and of my
fortune not one farthing could be touched till I was of age, of which
I now wanted more than two years. My husband therefore was resolved to
set out for Ireland; against which I remonstrated very earnestly, and
insisted on a promise which he had made me before our marriage that I
should never take this journey against my consent; and indeed I never
intended to consent to it; nor will anybody, I believe, blame me for
that resolution; but this, however, I never mentioned to my husband,
and petitioned only for the reprieve of a month; but he had fixed the
day, and to that day he obstinately adhered.

"The evening before our departure, as we were disputing this point
with great eagerness on both sides, he started suddenly from his
chair, and left me abruptly, saying he was going to the rooms. He was
hardly out of the house when I saw a paper lying on the floor, which,
I suppose, he had carelessly pulled from his pocket, together with his
handkerchief. This paper I took up, and, finding it to be a letter, I
made no scruple to open and read it; and indeed I read it so often
that I can repeat it to you almost word for word. This then was the
letter:

_'To Mr Brian Fitzpatrick._

'SIR,

'YOURS received, and am surprized you should use me in this manner,
as have never seen any of your cash, unless for one linsey-woolsey
coat, and your bill now is upwards of £150. Consider, sir, how often
you have fobbed me off with your being shortly to be married to this
lady and t'other lady; but I can neither live on hopes or promises,
nor will my woollen-draper take any such in payment. You tell me you
are secure of having either the aunt or the niece, and that you
might have married the aunt before this, whose jointure you say is
immense, but that you prefer the niece on account of her ready
money. Pray, sir, take a fool's advice for once, and marry the first
you can get. You will pardon my offering my advice, as you know I
sincerely wish you well. Shall draw on you per next post, in favour
of Messieurs John Drugget and company, at fourteen days, which doubt
not your honouring, and am,

Sir, your humble servant, 'SAM. COSGRAVE.'

"This was the letter, word for word. Guess, my dear girl--guess how
this letter affected me. You prefer the niece on account of her ready
money! If every one of these words had been a dagger, I could with
pleasure have stabbed them into his heart; but I will not recount my
frantic behaviour on the occasion. I had pretty well spent my tears
before his return home; but sufficient remains of them appeared in my
swollen eyes. He threw himself sullenly into his chair, and for a long
time we were both silent. At length, in a haughty tone, he said, `I
hope, madam, your servants have packed up all your things; for the
coach will be ready by six in the morning.' My patience was totally
subdued by this provocation, and I answered, `No, sir, there is a
letter still remains unpacked;' and then throwing it on the table I
fell to upbraiding him with the most bitter language I could invent.

"Whether guilt, or shame, or prudence, restrained him I cannot say;
but, though he is the most passionate of men, he exerted no rage on
this occasion. He endeavoured, on the contrary, to pacify me by the
most gentle means. He swore the phrase in the letter to which I
principally objected was not his, nor had he ever written any such. He
owned, indeed, the having mentioned his marriage, and that preference
which he had given to myself, but denied with many oaths the having
mentioned any such matter at all on account of the straits he was in
for money, arising, he said, from his having too long neglected his
estate in Ireland. And this, he said, which he could not bear to
discover to me, was the only reason of his having so strenuously
insisted on our journey. He then used several very endearing
expressions, and concluded by a very fond caress, and many violent
protestations of love.

"There was one circumstance which, though he did not appeal to it, had
much weight with me in his favour, and that was the word jointure in
the taylor's letter, whereas my aunt never had been married, and this
Mr Fitzpatrick well knew.----As I imagined, therefore, that the fellow
must have inserted this of his own head, or from hearsay, I persuaded
myself he might have ventured likewise on that odious line on no
better authority. What reasoning was this, my dear? was I not an
advocate rather than a judge?--But why do I mention such a
circumstance as this, or appeal to it for the justification of my
forgiveness?--In short, had he been guilty of twenty times as much,
half the tenderness and fondness which he used would have prevailed on
me to have forgiven him. I now made no farther objections to our
setting out, which we did the next morning, and in a little more than
a week arrived at the seat of Mr Fitzpatrick.

"Your curiosity will excuse me from relating any occurrences which
past during our journey; for it would indeed be highly disagreeable to
travel it over again, and no less so to you to travel it over with me.

"This seat, then, is an ancient mansion-house: if I was in one of
those merry humours in which you have so often seen me, I could
describe it to you ridiculously enough. It looked as if it had been
formerly inhabited by a gentleman. Here was room enough, and not the
less room on account of the furniture; for indeed there was very
little in it. An old woman, who seemed coeval with the building, and
greatly resembled her whom Chamont mentions in the Orphan, received us
at the gate, and in a howl scarce human, and to me unintelligible,
welcomed her master home. In short, the whole scene was so gloomy and
melancholy, that it threw my spirits into the lowest dejection; which
my husband discerning, instead of relieving, encreased by two or three
malicious observations. `There are good houses, madam,' says he, `as
you find, in other places besides England; but perhaps you had rather
be in a dirty lodgings at Bath.'

"Happy, my dear, is the woman who, in any state of life, hath a
cheerful good-natured companion to support and comfort her! But why do
I reflect on happy situations only to aggravate my own misery? my
companion, far from clearing up the gloom of solitude, soon convinced
me that I must have been wretched with him in any place, and in any
condition. In a word, he was a surly fellow, a character perhaps you
have never seen; for, indeed, no woman ever sees it exemplified but in
a father, a brother, or a husband; and, though you have a father, he
is not of that character. This surly fellow had formerly appeared to
me the very reverse, and so he did still to every other person. Good
heaven! how is it possible for a man to maintain a constant lie in his
appearance abroad and in company, and to content himself with shewing
disagreeable truth only at home? Here, my dear, they make themselves
amends for the uneasy restraint which they put on their tempers in the
world; for I have observed, the more merry and gay and good-humoured
my husband hath at any time been in company, the more sullen and
morose he was sure to become at our next private meeting. How shall I
describe his barbarity? To my fondness he was cold and insensible. My
little comical ways, which you, my Sophy, and which others, have
called so agreeable, he treated with contempt. In my most serious
moments he sung and whistled; and whenever I was thoroughly dejected
and miserable he was angry, and abused me: for, though he was never
pleased with my good-humour, nor ascribed it to my satisfaction in
him, yet my low spirits always offended him, and those he imputed to
my repentance of having (as he said) married an Irishman.

"You will easily conceive, my dear Graveairs (I ask your pardon, I
really forgot myself), that, when a woman makes an imprudent match in
the sense of the world, that is, when she is not an arrant prostitute
to pecuniary interest, she must necessarily have some inclination and
affection for her man. You will as easily believe that this affection
may possibly be lessened; nay, I do assure you, contempt will wholly
eradicate it. This contempt I now began to entertain for my husband,
whom I now discovered to be--I must use the expression--an arrant
blockhead. Perhaps you will wonder I did not make this discovery long
before; but women will suggest a thousand excuses to themselves for
the folly of those they like: besides, give me leave to tell you, it
requires a most penetrating eye to discern a fool through the
disguises of gaiety and good breeding.

"It will be easily imagined that, when I once despised my husband, as
I confess to you I soon did, I must consequently dislike his company;
and indeed I had the happiness of being very little troubled with it;
for our house was now most elegantly furnished, our cellars well
stocked, and dogs and horses provided in great abundance. As my
gentleman therefore entertained his neighbours with great hospitality,
so his neighbours resorted to him with great alacrity; and sports and
drinking consumed so much of his time, that a small part of his
conversation, that is to say, of his ill-humours, fell to my share.

"Happy would it have been for me if I could as easily have avoided all
other disagreeable company; but, alas! I was confined to some which
constantly tormented me; and the more, as I saw no prospect of being
relieved from them. These companions were my own racking thoughts,
which plagued and in a manner haunted me night and day. In this
situation I past through a scene, the horrors of which can neither be
painted nor imagined. Think, my dear, figure, if you can, to yourself,
what I must have undergone. I became a mother by the man I scorned,
hated, and detested. I went through all the agonies and miseries of a
lying-in (ten times more painful in such a circumstance than the worst
labour can be when one endures it for a man one loves) in a desert, or
rather, indeed, a scene of riot and revel, without a friend, without a
companion, or without any of those agreeable circumstances which often
alleviate, and perhaps sometimes more than compensate, the sufferings
of our sex at that season."



Chapter vi.

In which the mistake of the landlord throws Sophia into a dreadful
consternation.


Mrs Fitzpatrick was proceeding in her narrative when she was
interrupted by the entrance of dinner, greatly to the concern of
Sophia; for the misfortunes of her friend had raised her anxiety, and
left her no appetite but what Mrs Fitzpatrick was to satisfy by her
relation.

The landlord now attended with a plate under his arm, and with the
same respect in his countenance and address which he would have put on
had the ladies arrived in a coach and six.

The married lady seemed less affected with her own misfortunes than
was her cousin; for the former eat very heartily, whereas the latter
could hardly swallow a morsel. Sophia likewise showed more concern and
sorrow in her countenance than appeared in the other lady; who, having
observed these symptoms in her friend, begged her to be comforted,
saying, "Perhaps all may yet end better than either you or I expect."

Our landlord thought he had now an opportunity to open his mouth, and
was resolved not to omit it. "I am sorry, madam," cries he, "that your
ladyship can't eat; for to be sure you must be hungry after so long
fasting. I hope your ladyship is not uneasy at anything, for, as madam
there says, all may end better than anybody expects. A gentleman who
was here just now brought excellent news; and perhaps some folks who
have given other folks the slip may get to London before they are
overtaken; and if they do, I make no doubt but they will find people
who will be very ready to receive them."

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