If sickness was not allowed to hinder Fielding's energies for the benefit of the public, and for the future provision of his family, neither did he permit it to dull the activities of friendship. Early in December, when his illness must have been acute, he wrote the following hitherto unpublished letter to the Lord Chancellor, on behalf of his friend Mr Saunders Welch: [8]

"My Lord,

"As I hear that a new Commission of the Peace is soon to pass the Great Seal for Westm'r. give me Leave to recommend the name of Saunders Welch, as well as to the next Commission for Middx. Your Lordship will, I hope, do me the Honour of believing, I should not thus presume, unless I was well satisfied that the Merit of the Man would justifie my Presumption. For this besides a universal Good Character and the many eminent services he hath done the Public, I appeal in particular to Master Lane; and shall only add, as I am positive the Truth is, that his Place can be filled with no other more acceptable to all the Gentlemen in the Commission, and indeed to the Public in general. I am with the highest Duty and Respect,

"My Lord, "Your Lordship's most obedient "and most humble servant, "Henry Ffielding." "Decr 6. 1753 "To the Lord High Chancellor"

[1] Life of Henry Fielding. Frederick Lawrence, p. 138.

[2] Saunders Welch. A Letter on the subject of Robberies, wrote in the year 1753.

[3] See the Public Advertiser 1753 March 17, 20, 24 &c.

[4] This unique contemporary print of Fielding may be seen in the British Museum, Print Room, Social Satires, No. 3213.

[5] Record Office. State Papers. Domestic G. II., 127, no. 24.

[6] Lysons. Environs of London. 1795. Vol. ii. p. 229.

[7] The quotations from the Voyage to Lisbon are from the edition recently prepared by Mr Austin Dobson, for the 'World's Classics.'

[8] This letter is now in the British Museum. The endorsement on the back is: "Dec. 6, 1753 from Mr Fielding recommending Mr. Saunders Welch to be in the Com. of ye Peace for Westmr and Middx."



CHAPTER XVII

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 doree,' 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.

L s d L600, 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

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 L364, 7s. 1d. or "about Ll00 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 S6. 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."

THE END