Henry Esmond; The English Humourists; The Four Georges Part 75

1753. Published _Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom_.

1755. Published version of _Don Quixote_.

1756. Began the _Critical Review_.

1758. Published his _History of England_.

1763-1766. Travelling in France and Italy; published his _Travels_.

1769. Published _Adventures of an Atom_.

1770. Set out for Italy; died at Leghorn 21st of Oct., 1771, in the fifty-first year of his age.

149 A good specimen of the old "slas.h.i.+ng" style of writing is presented by the paragraph on Admiral Knowles, which subjected Smollett to prosecution and imprisonment. The admiral's defence on the occasion of the failure of the Rochfort expedition came to be examined before the tribunal of the _Critical Review_.

"He is," said our author, "an admiral without conduct, an engineer without knowledge, an officer without resolution, and a man without veracity!"

Three months imprisonment in the King's Bench avenged this stinging paragraph.

But the _Critical_ was to Smollett a perpetual fountain of "hot water". Among less important controversies may be mentioned that with Grainger, the translator of _Tibullus_. Grainger replied in a pamphlet; and in the next number of the _Review_ we find him threatened with "castigation", as an "owl that has broken from his mew"!

In Dr. Moore's biography of him is a pleasant anecdote. After publis.h.i.+ng the _Don Quixote_, he returned to Scotland to pay a visit to his mother:-

"On Smollett's arrival, he was introduced to his mother with the connivance of Mrs. Telfer (her daughter), as a gentleman from the West Indies, who was intimately acquainted with her son. The better to support his a.s.sumed character, he endeavoured to preserve a serious countenance, approaching to a frown; but while his mother's eyes were riveted on his countenance, he could not refrain from smiling: she immediately sprung from her chair, and throwing her arms round his neck, exclaimed, 'Ah, my son! my son! I have found you at last!'

"She afterwards told him, that if he had kept his austere looks and continued to _gloom_, he might have escaped detection some time longer, but 'your old roguish smile', added she, 'betrayed you at once.' "

"Shortly after the publication of _The Adventures of an Atom_, disease again attacked Smollett with redoubled violence. Attempts being vainly made to obtain for him the office of Consul in some part of the Mediterranean, he was compelled to seek a warmer climate, without better means of provision than his own precarious finances could afford. The kindness of his distinguished friend and countryman, Dr. Armstrong (then abroad), procured for Dr. and Mrs.

Smollett a house at Monte Nero, a village situated on the side of a mountain overlooking the sea, in the neighbourhood of Leghorn, a romantic and salutary abode, where he prepared for the press, the last, and like music 'sweetest in the close', the most pleasing of his compositions, _The Expedition of Humphry Clinker_. This delightful work was published in 1771."-SIR WALTER SCOTT.

150 The dispute with the captain arose from the wish of that functionary to intrude on his right to his cabin, for which he had paid thirty pounds. After recounting the circ.u.mstances of the apology, he characteristically adds:-

"And here, that I may not be thought the sly trumpeter of my own praises, I do utterly disclaim all praise on the occasion. Neither did the greatness of my mind dictate, nor the force of my Christianity exact this forgiveness. To speak truth, I forgave him from a motive which would make men much more forgiving, if they were much wiser than they are; because it was convenient for me so to do."

151 Lady Mary was his second cousin-their respective grandfathers being sons of George Fielding, Earl of Desmond, son of William, Earl of Denbigh.

In a letter dated just a week before his death, she says:-

"H. Fielding has given a true picture of himself and his first wife in the characters of Mr. and Mrs. Booth, some compliments to his own figure excepted; and I am persuaded, several of the incidents he mentions are real matters of fact. I wonder he does not perceive Tom Jones and Mr. Booth are sorry scoundrels.... Fielding has really a fund of true humour, and was to be pitied at his first entrance into the world, having no choice, as he said himself, but to be a hackney writer or a hackney coachman. His genius deserved a better fate; but I cannot help blaming that continued indiscretion, to give it the softest name, that has run through his life, and I am afraid still remains.... Since I was born no original has appeared excepting Congreve, and Fielding, who would, I believe, have approached nearer to his excellences, if not forced by his necessities to publish without correction, and throw many productions into the world he would have thrown into the fire, if meat could have been got without money, or money without scribbling.... I am sorry not to see any more of Peregrine Pickle's performances; I wish you would tell me his name,"-_Letters and Works_ (Lord Wharncliffe's ed.), vol. iii, pp. 93, 94.

152 He sailed for Lisbon, from Gravesend, on Sunday morning, June 30th, 1754; and began the _Journal of a Voyage_ during the pa.s.sage. He died at Lisbon, in the beginning of October of the same year. He lies buried there, in the English Protestant church-yard, near the Estrella Church, with this inscription over him:-

"HENRICUS FIELDING, LUGET BRITANNIA GREMIO NON DATUM FOVERE NATUM."

153 Fielding himself is said by Dr. Warton to have preferred _Joseph Andrews_ to his other writings.

154 "Richardson," says worthy Mrs. Barbauld, in her Memoir of him, prefixed to his Correspondence, "was exceedingly hurt at this (_Joseph Andrews_), the more so as they had been on good terms, and he was very intimate with Fielding's two sisters. He never appears cordially to have forgiven it (perhaps it was not in human nature he should), and he always speaks in his letters with a great deal of asperity of _Tom Jones_, more indeed than was quite graceful in a rival author. No doubt he himself thought his indignation was solely excited by the loose morality of the work and of its author, but he could tolerate Cibber."

155 It must always be borne in mind, that besides that the Doctor couldn't be expected to like Fielding's wild life (to say nothing of the fact, that they were of opposite sides in politics), Richardson was one of his earliest and kindest friends. Yet Johnson too (as Boswell tells us) read _Amelia_ through without "stopping".

156 "Manners change from generation to generation, and with manners morals appear to change-actually change with some, but appear to change with all but the abandoned. A young man of the present day who should act as Tom Jones is supposed to act at Upton, with Lady Bellaston, &c., would not be a Tom Jones; and a Tom Jones of the present day, without perhaps being in the ground a better man, would have perished rather than submit to be kept by a harridan of fortune. Therefore, this novel is, and indeed, pretends to be, no example of conduct. But, notwithstanding all this, I do loathe the cant which can recommend _Pamela_ and _Clarissa Harlowe_ as strictly moral, although they poison the imagination of the young with continued doses of _tinct. lyttae_, while _Tom Jones_ is prohibited as loose. I do not speak of young women; but a young man whose heart or feelings can be injured, or even his pa.s.sions excited by this novel, is already thoroughly corrupt. There is a cheerful, suns.h.i.+ny, breezy spirit, that prevails everywhere, strongly contrasted with the close, hot, day dreamy continuity of Richardson."-COLERIDGE, _Literary Remains_, vol. ii, p. 374.

157 "Nor was she (Lady Mary Wortley Montagu) a stranger to that beloved first wife, whose picture he drew in his _Amelia_, when, as she said, even the glowing language he knew how to employ, did not do more than justice to the amiable qualities of the original, or to her beauty, although this had suffered a little from the accident related in the novel-a frightful overturn, which destroyed the gristle of her nose. He loved her pa.s.sionately, and she returned his affection....

"His biographers seem to have been shy of disclosing that after the death of this charming woman, he married her maid. And yet the act was not so discreditable to his character as it may sound. The maid had few personal charms, but was an excellent creature, devotedly attached to her mistress, and almost brokenhearted for her loss. In the first agonies of his own grief, which approached to frenzy, he found no relief but from weeping along with her; nor solace when a degree calmer, but in talking to her of the angel they mutually regretted. This made her his habitual confidential a.s.sociate, and in process of time he began to think he could not give his children a tenderer mother, or secure for himself a more faithful housekeeper and nurse. At least, this was what he told his friends; and it is certain that her conduct as his wife confirmed it, and fully justified his good opinion."-_Letters and Works of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu._ Edited by Lord Wharncliffe. _Introductory Anecdotes_, vol.

i, pp. 80, 81.

Fielding's first wife was Miss Craddock, a young lady from Salisbury, with a fortune of 1,500_l._, whom he married in 1736.

About the same time he succeeded, himself, to an estate of 200_l._ per annum, and on the joint amount he lived for some time as a splendid country gentleman in Dorsets.h.i.+re. Three years brought him to the end of his fortune; when he returned to London, and became a student of law.

158 In the _Gentleman's Magazine_, for 1786, an anecdote is related of Harry Fielding, "in whom," says the correspondent, "good nature and philanthropy in their extreme degree were known to be the prominent features." It seems that "some parochial taxes" for his house in Beaufort Buildings had long been demanded by the collector. "At last, Harry went off to Johnson, and obtained by a process of literary mortgage the needful sum. He was returning with it, when he met an old college chum whom he had not seen for many years. He asked the chum to dinner with him at a neighbouring tavern; and learning that he was in difficulties, emptied the contents of his pocket into his. On returning home he was informed that the collector had been twice for the money. 'Friends.h.i.+p has called for the money and had it,' said Fielding; 'let the collector call again.' "

It is elsewhere told of him, that being in company with the Earl of Denbigh, his kinsman, and the conversation turning upon their relations.h.i.+p, the Earl asked him how it was that he spelled his name "Fielding", and not "Feilding", like the head of the house? "I cannot tell, my lord," said he, "except it be that my branch of the family were the first that knew how to spell."

159 In 1749, he was made Justice of the Peace for Westminster and Middles.e.x, an office then paid by fees, and very laborious, without being particularly reputable. It may be seen from his own words, in the Introduction to the _Voyage_, what kind of work devolved upon him, and in what a state he was, during these last years; and still more clearly, how he comported himself through all.

"Whilst I was preparing for my journey, and when I was almost fatigued to death with several long examinations, relating to five different murders, all committed within the s.p.a.ce of a week, by different gangs of street-robbers, I received a message from his grace the Duke of Newcastle, by Mr. Carrington, the King's messenger, to attend his grace the next morning in Lincoln's Inn Fields, upon some business of importance: but I excused myself from complying with the message, as, besides being lame, I was very ill with the great fatigues I had lately undergone, added to my distemper.

"His grace, however, sent Mr. Carrington the very next morning, with another summons; with which, though in the utmost distress, I immediately complied; but the duke happening, unfortunately for me, to be then particularly engaged, after I had waited some time, sent a gentleman to discourse with me on the best plan which could be invented for these murders and robberies, which were every day committed in the streets; upon which I promised to transmit my opinion in writing to his grace, who, as the gentleman informed me, intended to lay it before the Privy Council.

"Though this visit cost me a severe cold, I, notwithstanding, set myself down to work, and in about four days sent the duke as regular a plan as I could form, with all the reasons and arguments I could bring to support it, drawn out on several sheets of paper; and soon received a message from the Duke, by Mr. Carrington, acquainting me that my plan was highly approved of, and that all the terms of it would be complied with.

"The princ.i.p.al and most material of these terms was the immediately depositing 600_l._ in my hands; at which small charge I undertook to demolish the then reigning gangs, and to put the civil policy into such order, that no such gangs should ever be able for the future, to form themselves into bodies, or at least to remain any time formidable to the public.

"I had delayed my Bath journey for some time, contrary to the repeated advice of my physical acquaintances, and the ardent desire of my warmest friends, though my distemper was now turned to a deep jaundice; in which case the Bath waters are generally reputed to be almost infallible. But I had the most eager desire to demolish this gang of villains and cut-throats....

"After some weeks the money was paid at the Treasury, and within a few days, after 200_l._ of it had come into my hands, the whole gang of cut-throats was entirely dispersed...."

Further on, he says-

"I will confess that my private affairs at the beginning of the winter had but a gloomy aspect; for I had not plundered the public or the poor of those sums which men, who are always ready to plunder both as much as they can, have been pleased to suspect me of taking; on the contrary, by composing, instead of inflaming, the quarrels of porters and beggars (which I blush when I say hath not been universally practised), and by refusing to take a s.h.i.+lling from a man who most undoubtedly would not have had another left, I had reduced an income of about 500_l._, a year of the dirtiest money upon earth, to little more than 300_l._, a considerable portion of which remained with my clerk."

160 He came of a Suffolk family-one of whom settled in Nottinghams.h.i.+re.

The famous "starling" was actually the family crest.

161 "It was in this parish" (of Animo, in Wicklow), "during our stay, that I had that wonderful escape in falling through a mill-race, whilst the mill was going, and of being taken up unhurt; the story is incredible, but known for truth in all that part of Ireland, where hundreds of the common people flocked to see me."-STERNE.

162 "My wife returns to Toulouse, and proposes to pa.s.s the summer at Bagneres-I, on the contrary, go and visit my wife, the church, in Yorks.h.i.+re. We all live the longer, at least the happier, for having things our own way; this is my conjugal maxim. I own 'tis not the best of maxims, but I maintain 'tis not the worst."-STERNE'S _Letters_, 20th January, 1764.

163 In a collection of _Seven Letters by Sterne and His Friends_, (printed for private circulation), in 1844, is a letter of M.

Tollot, who was in France with Sterne and his family in 1764. Here is a paragraph:-

"Nous arrivames le lendemain a Montpellier, ou nous trouvames notre ami Mr. Sterne, sa femme, sa fille, Mr. Huet, et quelques autres Anglaises; j'eus, je vous l'avoue, beaucoup de plaisir en revoyant le bon et agreable Tristram.... Il avait ete a.s.sez longtemps a Toulouse, ou il se serait amuse sans sa femme, qui le poursuivit partout, et qui voulait etre de tout. Ces dispositions dans cette bonne dame, lui ont fait pa.s.ser d'a.s.sez mauvais momens; il supporte tous ces desagremens avec une patience d'ange."

About four months after this very characteristic letter, Sterne wrote to the same gentleman to whom Tollot had written; and from his letter we may extract a companion paragraph:-

"... All which being premised, I have been for eight weeks smitten with the tenderest pa.s.sion that ever tender wight underwent. I wish, dear cousin, thou couldst conceive (perhaps thou canst without my wis.h.i.+ng it) how deliciously I canter'd away with it the first month, two up, two down, always upon my _hanches_, along the streets from my hotel to hers, at first once-then twice, then three times a day, till at length I was within an ace of setting up my hobby-horse in her stable for good and all. I might as well, considering how the enemies of the Lord have blasphemed thereupon. The last three weeks we were every hour upon the doleful ditty of parting-and thou mayest conceive, dear cousin, how it altered my gait and air-for I went and came like any louden'd carl, and did nothing but _jouer des sentimens_ with her from sun-rising even to the setting of the same; and now she is gone to the south of France; and to finish the _comedie_, I fell ill and broke a vessel in my lungs, and half bled to death. _Voila mon histoire!_"